


how did i get here

by kevindazes



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Kevin Day Centric, Kevin Day Needs A Fucking Hug, M/M, Multi, Out of Character, POV Kevin Day, Past Kevin Day/Riko Moriyama, Recovery, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, kevin day being heavily dependent on the people around him
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-23 05:01:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 57,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23206096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kevindazes/pseuds/kevindazes
Summary: in which kevin learns how to feel alive again
Relationships: Kevin Day & The Foxes (All For The Game), Kevin Day/Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 47
Kudos: 158





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> major trigger warning please read the tags
> 
> i luv u guys be safe

Kevin thinks about Riko’s funeral a lot. 

He thinks about seeing the number one staring back at him from the bottom of a casket, thinks about the line of Ravens, past and present, standing side by side as they lower his body into the ground. He thinks about how awful the cold of Riko’s gravestone felt under his fingertips as he said his last goodbye. 

He thinks about how he had to use all of his strength to walk away from him, to not lay down in the soft grass next to his buried coffin and never get up. 

One year ago, they planted Riko underneath a shady tree somewhere in West Virginia. 

Riko started his life underground in the Nest and then he’d ended it  _ in the actual ground. _ Kevin thinks it’s a bad joke. Maybe even a little poetic, if he thinks about it too hard. 

He’s staring at the ceiling of his tiny dorm room. Just staring, unwilling to move and unwilling to blink. There’s no point to move, to think about anything other than nothing. He’s completely hollow and, for the first time in his miserable life, he doesn’t feel the need to shove a vodka bottle halfway down his throat for dinner. 

Instead, he contemplates whether he should have the sleeping medication or the pain medication first. 

He stares at the small bottles on the windowsill and thinks about Andrew, perched there with a cigarette hanging from his lips. He’d stare at Kevin, unimpressed, before swiping up the medication and flushing each pill down the toilet. He’d grab Kevin by the chin and look him straight in the eyes and tell him  _ never _ to consider it again. 

Kevin makes a pros and cons list in his head as he turns his unseeing gaze back to the ceiling. 

What’s Neil’s favorite color again? Kevin snorts as he thinks,  _ orange _ , but then he remembers it might be grey. Kevin doesn’t have grey pills. 

So, what’s Andrew’s favorite color? _ Black, obviously, _ Kevin tells himself but then he thinks,  _ red. _

Kevin doesn’t have red pills either. 

He huffs in frustration and rubs at his left eye. Kevin has many favorite colors, but no one has ever asked him why he likes all these colors, so he never told them. It was too long of an explanation and he was too much of a hard ass in front of the others to ever tell them, anyways. 

He likes the color purple because it was the color of Allison’s nails the first time she’d ever cut his hair. Kevin didn’t even  _ need  _ a haircut, well, at least he didn’t  _ think  _ he did. Allison insisted and that’s how Kevin found himself sat in a ricket-y chair in the girls’ bathroom. 

She’d ran her hands through his hair and Kevin thought, _ this is nice.  _ He thought,  _ her hands are really soft _ . He thought,  _ why can’t she do this all the time? _ He’d dozed off during the haircut and Kevin can still hear her soft voice in his ear, telling him that she was done. He can still feel the pressure of her hand against his lower back as she guided him towards the dorm door. He had told her thank you and left without looking at himself in the mirror.

At the next movie marathon night Dan had scheduled, Kevin drunk ten times his body weight and was lying on his stomach next to Renee and Allison. Renee was sober, the bottle of water between her crossed legs told him so. Allison, however, must of been fighting with Seth again, because she was drinking straight from a wine bottle and Seth was nowhere in sight. 

He pillowed his head on her thigh. He felt her freeze for a moment, a single moment, before something clicked and her hand dropped to his head. They don’t ever talk about it now, but Kevin wants to. 

He wants to. 

He likes yellow because of Renee. It was the color of the sundress she was wearing the time she asked him to play a game of knock off football with everyone. They were having a barbecue at Abby’s that first summer, a day that was meant for the team and ‘family’, as Wymack had put it. He had been sitting at the table, Andrew stoic as ever by his side, when he felt the smallest touch on his shoulder. “You wanna play?” She asked kindly, smirking. “We need someone on our team as big as Matt and I don’t think Andrew really…  _ fits _ .” 

Her laugh was soft and her eyes were full of mischief. Kevin liked it. 

Andrew had been medicated that summer and that delirious, drugged smile crossed his face. He turned to say something snarky back to Renee when Kevin interrupted with a, “Sure.” 

Of course, their team won. He was Kevin Day, if he could play Exy with the best of ‘em he sure as  _ shit _ was not about to lose a backyard football game to a bunch of orange wearing losers. 

Jokes on him, though, because he became an orange wearing loser himself. That’s why he likes orange. It represents Palmetto and his Dad and the only team that ever made him believe he was good enough. He’ll be a fox until the day he dies. Not a Raven. Not Riko’s number two. A fox, through and through. He couldn’t scrub the orange off his bones even if he wanted to try. 

He likes blue because of Matt. The first time Kevin had ever seen the humungous blue truck Matt used to drive, he wondered how the fuck anyone was supposed to drive that thing without wrecking. Then, he saw Matt himself get out of the truck and thought,  _ at least he can see over the steering wheel. _ At the Nest, Riko and he had been taught to drive by a private instructor from the DMV in the back parking lot of the stadium.

Kevin had never driven on real roads. Tetsuji wouldn’t let them. They were too valuable, or some shit.

The first time Kevin ever drove on a real road, with actual signs and traffic lights and other cars, had been in Matt’s truck. Even if he almost killed them five different times, it was still one of Kevin’s fonder memories of his first year at Palmetto. He’d never forget how it felt to blare Matt’s music as loud as possible and roll both windows down and just drive. 

He has a love/hate relationship with the color red. It was the color of the blood that covered his broken hand after Riko stomped on it. It was the color of the blood that spilled onto the blue tarp and seeped into his brand new court shoes as he watched a man get chopped to pieces. It was the color of the burn on Neil’s cheek the day he came home from the hospital in Baltimore. It was the color of the Ravens’ away game uniforms. It was the color of the lipstick his mother was wearing the day they buried her. 

But it was also the color of Andrew’s cheeks and nose after he’d been up on the roof for too long without a jacket. It was the color of Neil’s burning hair when the sun hit it just right. It was the color of his teammates faces as they screamed and jumped and celebrated a win in the middle of the court. It was the color of Abby’s dining room chairs.

Betsy had told him that he could replace bad memories with new ones, if he tried. He happened to like the color red an awful lot. He hoped one day he could look at it and remember the good things. Only the good things. 

He liked the color green because of Dan.

Kevin was born in Ireland, under his grandparents roof. His mother always told him that the first words that he ever heard, were that of his Grandmother, whispering soft Gaelic in his ear. _ “The first thing she said was ‘I love you’, and the second was?” _ Kayleigh would look at him and wait for Kevin to finish the story. At that point in his life, Kevin had heard it millions upon millions of times. He replied, in his best story-telling voice,  _ “You are our blessing, our joy, our happiness made human.”  _

When Kevin was four, they moved to America so he could meet  _ ‘Uncle Tetsuji’ _ , as his mother called him. He’d learned English that year, too, and never used Gaelic again, unless he was talking to his mother. He still kept that saying, the one his Grandmother had whispered into his tiny ear, close to his heart. He never let himself forget it. 

One night, after a long movie marathon and a little too many vodka shots, Kevin was helping Dan clean the kitchen. For some reason, every time she got drunk, she cleaned. She had enlisted Kevin’s help because he was the tallest and, well, he was the only one currently awake. 

Their conversation was low but the words weren’t forced or awkward. It was easy, the type of conversation that you had with someone when the stars were too bright and you felt small in a way that couldn’t be described. Dan had asked him about his mom, so he told her the funniest, softest stories he could think of. 

He told her about his grandparents and he told her those words, both in Gaelic and in English. She smiled sadly at him and stared. Kevin could see the words in her throat build and build and he waited for something, anything, but all he got was an, “I’m sorry.” 

She didn’t say what for, but he heard it loud and clear.  _ I’m sorry for the life you could of had, I’m sorry about your mom being dead, I’m sorry you were ripped away from a family who would have loved you, and I’m sorry I’m too drunk to process this properly. _

That St. Patrick’s Day, Dan planned the biggest movie marathon she could and decorated the girls’ dorm with as much green holiday themed stuff she could find. She also bought Kevin all the vodka he could swallow. It was stupid, but it was Dan. It was a good night. He laughed and he drank and he thought about his Grandparents and his mom and he didn’t cry. 

He likes pink because of Neil. On the handful of occasions Kevin had seen Neil shirtless, it took his breath away. The myriad of scar tissue and rose-colored reminders that marred his skin made Kevin stop and just blink at him. How could someone hide so much- so much agony underneath a simple striped t-shirt that was a size too big? 

Neil had first started to change out in front of Kevin and Andrew at night practice. The first time, he looked at them before he did it, his face blank but his shoulders tense under his uniform. “I’m going to-” He stopped himself and took a deep breath, “you know what? Fuck it, if you stare at me, I’m kicking you in the throat.” And then he took his shirt off and Kevin’s brain short-circuited. 

Andrew turned his eyes away, disinterested, like he’d already seen them before. He probably had, but Kevin? Kevin had seen nothing but what Neil showed on a daily basis. Neil pointed a finger at Kevin and growled, “Keep your eyes to yourself, Day.” 

Kevin dropped his gaze like the sight of Neil’s torso had burned him. 

In some ways it had. It was like the sight was permanently seared into his retinas. If he blinked, it was all he could see. Each pink jagged rip and tear and cut was cataloged and categorized in Kevin’s brain after just one glimpse. It was like analyzing an Exy play he wanted to perfect. 

He wondered what had happened those years after Neil and his mother ran. He wondered if he and Neil would have some matching scars if Mary had taken him with them. It was a pipe dream within a pipe dream. He still thought about it, nonetheless. 

And then Baltimore happened and Neil was red and pink and blue and black and purple and green and yellow and every color Kevin could think of. It made Kevin want to cry and never stop. Watching Andrew peel away his bandages had made Kevin’s stomach roll with something akin to hatred. 

Neil had been through enough, he had suffered enough. He didn’t- he didn’t need anymore reminders. It took Neil almost ten whole years to be comfortable enough to pull his shirt off in front of someone other than his mother. Burning his face was like- it was like forcing him to face the fact that he’d been through something and he couldn’t block it out. 

Kevin wanted to rip out Lola’s spinal cord and stomp on it with all his might. He wanted to pull every single one of Nathan Wesninski’s pretty white teeth out of his skull and then make The Butcher of Baltimore swallow each one down with his own blood while Kevin watched and laughed. 

It was an awful thought and it was even more awful when brought to life in Kevin’s imagination, but the fabricated satisfaction of revenge burned in his stomach and Kevin  _ loved _ it. 

When Neil first showed up with armbands on, ones identical to Andrew’s, Kevin was- He didn't know how to feel. 

Now, Kevin only saw the soft, pink flesh of Neil’s forearms in their dorm room on days when it was too hot for the itchy black material. He only saw Neil’s pale pink dotted abdomen at practice. 

Black has never and will never be one of his favorite colors. He lived in black room after black room after black room at the Nest. The court was all black, the stadium seats too. The interior of the cars they drove around in was black. Their uniforms were black. Riko’s hair was black and so was Jean's. The court shoes he’d worn when he was eleven were so black that when blood seeped into them, Kevin barely noticed until he pulled them off.

He hated the color black with every fiber of his being. He hated how whenever he put it on, it suffocated him and made him feel like he was dying the slowest death possible. He hated how it brought back memories of wet black shower tiles and a white cloth held over Jean’s face as Riko smirked at Kevin and poured the second bucket of water slowly over Jean’s head. 

That’s why he refused to associate Andrew with the color black. Black was the color of Riko and Jean and Tetsuji and rooms where Kevin had his childhood ripped from him. 

Andrew was every color Kevin had ever seen, heard of, or made up in his head. 

Andrew with his split knuckles that screamed red and pink and white. 

Andrew with his golden eyes that glowed with every emotion locked behind his mask of apathy. 

Andrew with his purple and yellow and green bruises from Exy and sparring with Renee. 

Andrew with his rosy red cheeks and splatter of pale brown freckles over his nose. 

Andrew with a dash of purple under both eyes and grey smoke curling out of his smiling pink lips. 

God, how Kevin adored him. 

His entire body hummed when Andrew stood next to him. Kevin could feel a bone deep ache when Andrew would step away, would leave him in the care of others. It was like- it was like Kevin was missing one of his limbs and he couldn’t find it anywhere. He craved Andrew’s presence at his side like a dying man craved life. 

Kevin never really understood what friendship meant but even now, thinking about them as friends, felt so wrong that something actually rolled in Kevin’s chest. 

Andrew was more than his friend. Andrew was the only reason he felt safe most days. He was the reason Kevin started playing Exy again after he broke his hand. He was the reason why Kevin reached for his phone rather than a vodka bottle when he was alone and about to die from the amount of emotions in his chest. 

Nobody meant more to Kevin Day than Andrew Minyard did and nothing, absolutely nothing was going to change that. 

Kevin thinks,  _ Andrew wouldn’t like this. _

And then he thinks,  _ Where’s my phone? _

He pats his sweatpants and then his hoodie and then under his pillow and then- there it is, on his nightstand. 

He reaches for the device and ends up stretching himself out so much he nearly topples off the bed. He curses and finally manages to snatch it up without falling flat on his face. 

He opens it, goes to the phone app, and stares. 

He stares at it some more.

And then a little more. 

What was he going to say? Come home right now or I’m going to off myself? Yeah, that never worked for Seth and it certainly was not going to work for Kevin. 

Kevin’s eyes flick from the screen to the pill bottles and then back to the screen. He couldn’t exactly tell Andrew why he was calling and Andrew was too smart to just accept that Kevin wanted to talk. 

Kevin had been left in Nicky and Aaron’s care this weekend, but it’s been nearly a whole day since someone had checked in on him. Which was okay, he’s a twenty-one year old man with a driver’s license and everything, he can take care of himself. 

He just couldn’t _ be _ by himself… for certain periods of time at least. 

Kevin furrows his brows and wonders why Andrew hadn’t taken him to Wymack’s. He’d feel safer on his Dad’s couch, watching old nineties Exy games while drinking beer and coming up with plays. 

He realizes, though, a little too late really, that it’d been one whole year since Riko had died. Who the hell was Andrew supposed to be protecting him from? 

All Kevin had to do was live at this point, because that’s all he  _ could _ do. Nobody was going to drag him kicking and screaming back to the Nest. Nobody was going to surprise him on talk shows and nobody was going to call randomly to tell him to come home before something bad happens. 

Kevin didn’t technically _ need _ Andrew anymore, but that didn’t mean he didn’t want him. 

The sudden whoosh of air that left his lungs once he’d realized all this made his eyes water. He struggles to drag breath back in through his nose. 

Was this- this whole weekend thing- a way to start Kevin on getting used to being alone? Was- was he supposed to- 

Kevin’s chest seizes and his lungs stop and he presses a palm flat to his chest. Pure panic flowed through his entire body.

Alone?  _ Alone? _ Kevin can’t remember the last time he’d been truly alone. Riko had always been just around the corner. Andrew had always been at his side. Fuck, even  _ Neil _ was within ten feet of him at all times. The absolute terror Kevin felt when he thought about graduating and moving away from them, from  _ this _ , ripped a hole in his gut.

He was supposed to be alone. He was supposed to be an adult. He was supposed to be able to survive without someone to lean on. 

The problem with that? Kevin was weak. 

He was weak in a way that made him want to rip his chest open and remove his own heart, one handful at a time. It was the only organ Kevin was certain hadn’t been removed by someone else’s hands to be twisted and prodded and poked and carved and _ tainted _ . 

Kevin was utterly fond of his heart, because it was the only pure thing about him. 

He digs his fingers into the fabric of his shirt and feels his heart beating against his palm. 

_ I take it back _ , Kevin thinks, _ I take it back. I want him and I need him. I need him. I need him. I need him- _

The words slowly turns to a sob in his brain and he feels his entire body thrum with white static.

The numbness seeps through his bones and his blood and his muscles and leaks onto his sheets. 

It’s like a poison draining from his very roots, leaching into the soil around him with cruel intent. 

Memories of being alone flash before him and he lets them. He lets them hurt him and cut him and turn him in the complete wrong direction of recovery. 

He sees himself trapped in a black closet full of black Exy gear. He sees a cane coming down across his back with a smirking Riko hiding behind a locker. He sees his mother’s face hovering in a casket. He sees blood smeared on a white hotel room door before Wymack’s angry face appears. 

He feels his whole body echo the word  _ alone _ . He feels it in the depths of his skull, at the base of his spine, at the backs of his knees. Every inch of him, even the forgotten parts, is truly and utterly alone at this very moment in time and he wishes he could rip his entire consciousness out so he won't have to think anymore.

He knows, rationally, he can call up any of his teammates to come watch him and make sure he doesn’t kill himself. He also knows, rationally, that he isn’t alone. Not really, anyways. 

That little part of his brain, though? The one that tells him he isn’t worth Andrew’s time or his patience or his protection? It’s yelling at him, screeching with fear and panic and anxiety that rolls across Kevin’s body in such a way that he can barely breathe. 

He tries to focus on his colors, the memories attached to them, but all he can see behind his eyelids are Neil’s scars and Matt’s smashed blue truck and Andrew’s bloody knuckles and Allison’s black mascara smeared cheeks as she cries for Seth. 

Kevin wants to forget every bad moment in his life. He wants to scour his brain and rub it raw until he can no longer remember the white stained bandages across Neil’s ribs when he came back from Evermore and the dead look Andrew gave him the moment he’d left Easthaven. 

He thinks about moving and then he thinks about the color white. 

Not one of his favorites, not by a long shot, but it reminds him of those flowers Nicky tried to grow in the backyard at the Columbia house. It reminds him of Aaron’s white vans and the team’s white away game uniforms.

It also reminds him of Nathan Wesninski’s smile as he brought his ax down one final time. It reminds him of the racket Aaron swung into Drake’s head. It reminds him of white bandages pulled over burns and cuts. It reminds him, mostly, of his mother and that awful white dress they’d buried her in. 

That was the first time someone had left him. 

Car wrecks weren’t always fatal, but this one- this one just happened to be. 

Kevin thinks,  _ maybe she didn’t turn the wheel hard enough.  _

Then he thinks,  _ my pills are white. _

He looks from his phone to the orange bottles on his windowsill and tries to make the decision. 

Kevin had never been allowed to make decisions for himself, so he’d become accustomed to other people doing it for him. 

_ This isn’t a decision for someone else to make, dumb fuck, _ He thinks. 

He thinks of the pros and cons. He thinks of the colors pink and orange and black and red. He thinks of how Riko used to tell him how he looked pretty in blue when it was the color of his face. He thinks about fresh purple bruises in the shape of a cane across his back. He thinks of the sharp pain that shoots down his spine every time he thinks about Andrew never walking through that door again. 

He wants to do it. He wants to so fucking badly that his fingers twitch with the urge to swallow them all right now. 

He sits up and his whole body protests. He wants to lay back down. He wants to sleep until there’s nothing left of him but scraps of skin and solid white bone. He wants to decay in this very spot for the rest of his life. 

_ Alone _ , he thinks as he stands. 

The only sounds in the bedroom are the pills rattling around in their orange cages and the soft shuffle of Kevin’s socked feet on the carpet. 

He sets the pill bottles down and braces both hands on the edge of the sink before looking at himself in the mirror. 

He looks like a crumpled up piece of lined paper that someone smoothed out too many times so now it’s fuzzy and soft and not quite the right shape. He feels too small for his body, too big for his feet. He’s caught in between leaving for a night or never coming back at all and his body echoes the only word he can think of,  _ alone.  _

“Not really,” He says aloud to the pills he grabbed with one hand, “I have you, don’t I?”

The pills don’t respond. 

Kevin wishes they would. 

He wishes with every fiber of his frayed and shapeless being that something would tell him to stop, would grab him and force fingers down his throat until he was coughing up nothing but bile. 

He hadn’t even gotten a glass of water. 

Out in the living room, everything seemed to follow him with their imaginary eyes as he walked to the kitchen through the dark. Could this place tell that it was going to have a dead occupant soon? Could it feel Kevin’s impending absence as he filled a white cup with water? 

It was hard to look away from the two coffee mugs sitting in the sink. One was white and the other was black. Opposites. 

_ Not really, _ Kevin thinks. 

He’s back in the bathroom with the cup. He looks at his reflection one more time, like it’s going to talk back to him and explain to him why he’ll be okay in the end.  _ That’s the horror of mirrors, _ Kevin thinks, _ it’s just you and yourself and a one sided therapy session that does nothing but make you more sad.  _

His hands shake as he picks up the bottle and thinks, _ I forgot something.  _

_ No, _ his reflection answers. 

_ A note _ , He replies. 

_ No time for a note, _ the reflection smiles. 

Kevin agrees. 

He takes his shaky hands and he tries to unscrew the top and he whines in frustration at the stupid child prevention lock. He’d never- how the fuck did adult’s figure this shit out? He read the instructions on the white cap and tried again. 

The cap stays firmly twisted. Kevin wants to screech in frustration. 

His hands were starting to sweat from the nerves and he wipes them quickly on his sweatpants before he tries again. 

It takes him one more try, one more good yank of the cap, and he’s in. 

He stares at the way they glitter at the bottom of the bottle, their transparent reflection bouncing off the inside of the bottle. 

He doesn’t know how much he has left over from his hand injury and he doesn’t even know if he opened the one for his sleeping medication or his pain killers first. 

He sighs in a way that says he’s disappointed in himself for opening the bottle, his reflection for not stopping him, and Fox Tower for not alerting the others to his soon-to-be demise.

He wonders how he’s going to do it. All in one go? One by one? 

One by one feels too dramatic in his opinion. What if you pass out without taking them all and then you wake up to your roommates screaming and white pills spilled all around your body? 

The pills are small as fuck and there was no doubt that Kevin would lose one to the depths of the bathroom if he had to sweep them up. 

Shouldn’t he be crying or something? Wasn’t that what people in the movies did when they were about to die? 

He scrunches his nose up at his reflection and tries to understand why he is acting so casual about this, but he feels nothing hum under his skin. He isn’t warm or cold. He isn’t thirsty or hungry. He isn’t anything. 

He guesses that once he’d decided he was going to die, his cells just jumped on board and started killing themselves too. 

Kevin scowls at the stupid thought, and then smiles because he realizes that he can’t feel anything. 

Ah, the glory of being numb was something near and dear to Kevin Day’s heart. 

Vodka- vodka used to do the trick pretty well. So well, in fact, that there were times where Kevin was blacked out for a whole week. He wished he could go back to that humming in the back of his skull and the half lidded eyes full of nothing, nothing, nothing. 

He takes a pill out, one single white thing that weighs nothing in his palm. Exactly how many of these until his breathing evens out into nothing at all? How can something so small do so much damage? 

And then he laughs.

He thinks,  _ Andrew.  _

And that thought doesn’t sit right in his stomach. 

Andrew- Andrew doesn’t devastate because he wants to, he does it because he has an obligation. A deal. A bet. You honor your part of the deal and he honors his. 

Kevin guesses the pill works the same. You honor your part by taking too many, it would honor its part and kills you in the most peaceful way possible. 

Kevin hates the comparison with all his body and swipes the open pill bottle angrily off the sink. 

He doesn’t understand what he’s done until he hears the sound of the pills hitting the ground at different times. 

_ Fuck, _ Kevin thinks. 

_ Was that a sign? _ He thinks. 

_ No, _ his reflection wavered, _ it was just a setback. You know how to get back to where you need to be, right? _

Kevin stares at himself and thinks about where he needs to be. 

At this sink, body hunched over and eyes on the bottle of pills he hadn’t opened yet? Or maybe it was face down on his Dad’s couch drunk out of his skull on cheap beer? Maybe with his head in Allison’s lap and her purple fingernails running through his hair? 

In the passenger seat of the Maserati, arguing Exy statistics with Neil as Andrew drove, one handed, to nowhere and nothing? 

The passenger seat of the Maserati is Neil’s now. There is no room left for someone as big as Kevin and his bag of even bigger mental issues. 

He looks at the bottle at the bottom of the sink and it looks back at him. 

It seemed to ask,  _ So what are you gonna do? _

Kevin picks it up, opens it, and stares at the contents. White. Reflection on the inner wall of the bottle. Just like before, just like the other one. 

Kevin’s hands aren’t shaking anymore as he takes three pills out of the bottle and cradles them in his hand. He sets the open pill bottle on the top of the sink, next to his cup of water to avoid another burst of anger. 

He thinks,  _ Here we go.  _

And he puts them on his tongue. He takes a gulp of his water. 

He thinks, _ that wasn’t so bad. _

So he takes three more. 

Then three more. 

Nine. 

He thinks, _ not enough.  _

He takes four this time. 

Four again. 

Seventeen. 

He thinks, _ that’s uneven.  _

He takes three more. 

Twenty. 

He takes five.

He takes five more.

Thirty.

He thinks, _ there’s still more in the bottle.  _

He dumps the rest of them into his mouth and swallows.

His phone rings. 

His reflection says, _ ignore it.  _

His heart says,  _ it’s probably Andrew.  _

Kevin drops the pill bottle in the sink and he rushes to his phone. He thinks it’s almost funny how quickly how fuzzy his edges feel and how easy it would be for him to close his eyes just a little. He forgot that he hadn't eaten anything since the pizza Nicky had made two nights ago.

He shakes himself out of it and thinks,  _ Andrew’s calling _ , before looking at his phone. 

Neil’s name flashes on the screen and Kevin, who logically knew they were together and Andrew would be there, feels something ugly slash through his insides. 

_ He’s driving, _ Kevin thinks,  _ he can’t call you if he’s driving. _

Kevin answers the call. 

“Hey, Kev,” Neil’s voice was soft and rather annoying. It made Kevin’s heart beat a little faster. “We’re almost home,” Neil continues and Kevin thinks, _ home _ _. _ “What’d you do while we were gone?” 

_ Nothing, _ Kevin thinks. _ Missed you. Cried.  _

“Nothing much,” He replies, “Watched some movies and-” 

Kevin feels his stomach roll and his head go completely white. It’s like his eyes were trying to force themselves closed. 

“Kevin?” The sound of Neil’s confused voice is like a hand hold in a rock that Kevin had been falling down. He grasps onto it like it’s his lifeline and pushes himself back into reality headfirst. 

“You okay?” Neil asks, a little more confusion and a hint of concern in his voice. 

Kevin hums, “I-I’ve been alone all day so I-” 

“What? I thought-” Neil swallows, “Where are Aaron and Nicky?” 

Kevin hates to rat on his friends like this but he wants to hear Neil talk again, to say anything at all that can help Kevin keep himself here. Present.  _ Awake. _

“I dunno,” He shrugs, even though they can’t see him, “I feel sleepy.” 

“Kevin, are you drunk?” 

“Nope,” He pops the p and sways a little on his feet. The bed was looking really nice.

Comfortable. Like it would swallow him up and eat him alive if he laid down on it. 

“Kevin-” 

He hears the phone being snatched away and the confused noise of complaint. 

“Kevin,” Andrew speaks into the receiver and it’s like every color Kevin had ever seen in his entire life suddenly burst before his eyes. “We’re pulling in now.” 

“Mmkay, ‘Drew.” He says into the phone, eyes unfocused as he stares at the floor. 

He hears the call end and he thinks,  _ I should probably put my phone down.  _

He doesn’t. 

It’s like he’s suspended between time and space. He no longer existed no matter what direction you headed. Kevin Day was not around anymore. Kevin Day was gone. All that is left is his empty, hollow meat suit. 

He trails his gaze across the carpet until he meets his socked feet. 

_ I should sweep up those pills, _ He thinks. 

_ I should throw them up, too, _ He thinks. 

And then the front door opens and Kevin can feel the world crashing down around him in a hundred different ways in a hundred different universes. He is the eye of the storm, peaceful and calm, while his decisions destroyed everything and everyone in their path. 

There’s a curly head of blonde hair in front of his eyes and then a scarred hand grabbing at his chin. 

He thinks,  _ Andrew. Neil. Andrew and Neil.  _

His body echoes,  _ home. _

He drops to his knees and thinks _ , home, home, home. _

“Kevin, what did you do?” It was Andrew’s voice, loud and clear enough to cut through the haze of Kevin’s mind. 

“Who said I did anything?” Kevin slurs, turning to face Andrew and instead meeting Neil. 

“Neil,” Kevin smiles, falling back on the carpet and taking a crouching Neil with him. 

Kevin whines when Neil easily maneuvers away from him, but let it go so he could lay flat on his back. 

In the back of his mind, he tells himself that he understands exactly why Aaron preferred pills to anything else. 

Andrew’s leaning over him and Neil’s in the bathroom picking up empty pill bottles and reading their labels. 

“Kevin,” Andrew’s voice is frantic or maybe Kevin is just imagining it, “Kevin, stay awake. Don’t fucking fall asleep, do you hear me? Don’t fall asleep.” 

Kevin thinks,  _ is Andrew okay? Did I do something wrong? _

Kevin thinks,  _ I did do something wrong.  _

And he starts crying, huge fat tears that remind him of a childhood long past. He’s blubbering and apologizing and holding onto Andrew’s hand where it’s placed over his heart and he’s so sorry that it physically aches in his chest. 

“Kevin, look at me,” It’s Neil voice now and he sounds just as frantic as Andrew. He grabs Kevin with both hands on his cheeks and brushes the tears away with his thumbs. “Hey, sh, stop crying. Stop crying.” 

Kevin can’t. He can’t stop the tears from leaving his eyes because he can feel the disappointment and the guilt radiating off Andrew in waves. What if Andrew never speaks to him again? What if Andrew relapses because of him? 

Kevin’s body shudders with each sob and his throat is unbelievably dry and his heart is pumping too fast. He is full of panic and anxiety and he knows that he’d rather die than hear Neil’s voice as scared as it is right now ever again. 

“Stop it, Kev. We- We need to know how many you took.” Neil tries but Kevin can’t focus on anything but how much he hurt them. 

Kevin hates himself. He thinks about how maybe it would be better if he did die, that way they could both move on and leave the dead weight has-been in the dirt. 

Maybe he’d have his own little spot under that shady tree in West Virginia, Riko by his side. 

_ That’s how it’s always been and that’s how it always will be, _ Kevin thinks. 

“How many?” Neil’s voice is pure panic. Kevin furrows his eyebrows at the boy leaned over him and wraps a hand loosely in his shirt. “Why are you upset?” He asks and a sound unlike anything Andrew has ever made before pierces the air before he’s yanking Kevin up. 

“It doesn’t matter how much he took,” He’s saying but Kevin’s too preoccupied with the fact that Andrew has his hands around his waist, “As long as I can shove my fingers down his throat, it won’t be a problem.” 

Neil’s following after them quickly, “But Andrew- the pills he already d-digested-” 

Neil’s an inch away from a breakdown and Kevin’s first instinct is to stand over him in a way that will hide him from the rest of the world.

“Neil,” He mutters sadly as Andrew drops him on the tiled bathroom floor. “Neil, come here.” 

Neil slides down the bathroom door, his face pressed into his knees and hands over the back of his head. There’s an empty pill bottle still held tightly in his grasp. 

“Andrew?” Kevin almost whines. Andrew ignores him in favor of grabbing him by the chin and looking him dead in his dilated pupils. 

“If you fucking bite me, Day, I’m letting you die. Do you understand?” 

Kevin doesn’t have a chance to respond before Andrew is nudging his mouth open and shoving his fingers in as far as he can. Kevin’s knee-jerk reaction is to gag, so that’s what he does, and nothing comes up. 

“Again,” Andrew says, maybe to himself. Maybe to Neil. Maybe just to fill the silence with something other than Neil’s choked breathing or Kevin’s coughing. 

Kevin feels Andrew’s fingers again. 

He gags. 

He thinks,  _ oh fuck. _

He thinks,  _ this is so gross. _

He thinks,  _ Andrew had his fingers down my throat.  _

He thinks,  _ They’ll never forgive me.  _

He thinks,  _ I’ll never be alone again.  _

Andrew does it again, and again, and again, until Kevin is shaking and dry heaving and feeling scraped raw. 

“Call Abby,” Andrew says, tired and dead and empty. “Call Abby and tell her- fuck, I don’t fucking know.” 

“What if-” Neil stops himself like the words are stuck and he’s trying to find a way to dislodge them, “What if they admit him? What if he gets sent away? What if-” 

“Fuck if, it’s when.” Andrew says. 

Something in Kevin broke and he just stares at the ceiling of their shitty dorm bathroom. 

He thinks,  _ when. _

He thinks,  _ not if.  _

_ When _ they admit him,  _ when _ they send him away. 

Kevin wants to puke again, just because he can. 

“Andrew,” He says, so low and scratchy and just as empty and hollow as he expected.

“Don’t fucking talk to me right now.” Andrew replies but really, Kevin has no idea what he was supposed to say in the first place. 

It was a mistake. A trick played on Kevin by his own mind.

Kevin thinks about a shady tree in West Virginia and the number one needled in blank ink on a dead man’s cheek. He thinks about lying on the tiled floor of their bathroom and never getting up. He thinks about the soft grass covering Riko’s grave and thinks,  _ maybe I should pay him a visit, he probably misses me.  _

“Do you think dead people can miss the living?” Kevin asks aloud. 

Andrew stares at him, “Dead people can’t miss anything. They’re dead.” 

“What about their spirit?” Kevin clears his throat and asks, “What would your spirit wish for in the afterlife, assuming it’s real?” 

Andrew snorts a fake laugh, “A cigarette.” 

Kevin sighs. 

“They’re on their way. I…” Neil trails off, looking at Kevin’s blown out eyes and limp body. It’s like Kevin can physically see the flames burning in Neil’s memories. “I told them Kevin swallowed more pills than he was supposed to. I didn’t say you did it was on purpose but,” Neil pauses, “They know.” 

“They’re not stupid,” Andrew tells him and Neil slumps against the bathroom wall. 

Fox Tower hums in Kevin’s fuzzy hearing and he wonders if the humming was just the pipes running through the floor or the building’s happiness that he was still alive. 

He thinks, _ I’m still here.  _

He thinks,  _ I’m so fucking sorry. _

He thinks,  _ I don’t want to leave.  _

“I didn’t-” Kevin tries but he doesn’t know what to fucking say. The reasons are there, in his brain, formed into sentences and ready to be vocalized. He has them, so why can’t he say them? 

Kevin has never been good at saying how he felt. He has never been good at explaining anything, ever. He tries again but aborts the sentence before it even leaves his mouth. 

He sat there in silence as he tries to make his drugged brain function. It’s not working. He’s not working. 

He thinks, _ I’m so fucking stupid. _

He thinks, _ their going to put me away. _

He says, “Neil, what’s your favorite color?” 

Neil looks startled, thrown off by such a weird question. “What?” 

“What’s your favorite color?” He repeats. 

“Why?” Neil gives Andrew a quick side glance but Andrew’s looking at Kevin. 

“Doesn’t matter why.” Kevin tells him. And maybe that’s true. Maybe it’s not. 

Neil says, “Green. Green and yellow.” 

He keeps his eyes on the ceiling as he says, “Your turn.” 

Andrew scoffs, “I’m not obligated to answer anything you ask me.” 

Neil kicks his leg and Andrew grunts in complaint. 

“Fine,” He grumbles, “I don’t have one.” 

“Liar.” Kevin muses and even if he can’t see Andrew, he knows the other man has rolled his eyes. 

“Am not.” 

“Yeah, you are.” 

Kevin hears the front door open and he thinks,  _ no.  _

He thinks, _ I’m home. Let me stay at home.  _

He says, “Quick, before I’m gone.” 

He’s trying to sit up but every limb feels like it weighs a million tons. His head is so heavy he can barely look at Andrew in the eye. 

“Blue. Blue and green and black.” 

Kevin sighs. 

He closes his eyes.

He feels arms wrap around his body and he feels fingers digging into his pulse point. He hears the angry whispers and the worried ones. He hears Neil’s panic like it’s still fresh as he describes how they’d found him. 

Kevin can’t open his eyes. He’s afraid of what he will see. 

Proof that he was going to blow a hole in every single life he touched here? Proof that he was just another fox, running from his horrible past and his fucked up mind? Proof that Abby was crying and Betsy was cradling him in her arms and that his dad- his dad was having an absolute breakdown three feet away from the bathroom door? 

Kevin feels hollow. 

He thinks, _ I don’t like this.  _

He thinks,  _ maybe a shady tree in West Virginia isn’t for me.  _

Kevin doesn’t know that the other foxes have heard the news until they get him out into the living room. It’s somber and quiet and nothing like his team and Kevin wishes with all his fucking heart that he could go back in time. 

Nicky is sobbing into his hands, choking on breathes that keep getting caught in his throat. He’s mumbling something and Kevin swears he’s saying, “It’s my fault.” 

Over and over and over. 

Kevin wants to puke again. 

He thinks, _ it’s not your fault. It’s mine.  _

Aaron is staring dejectedly at the floor, mind lost in the silence of the room. Kevin sees his white vans and shudders so hard Abby nearly loses her grip on his arm. “Okay, bud, let’s sit you down for a minute.” 

Matt immediately gets up off the couch to offer his spot but Kevin just drops to the floor and lays there. He’s so close to crying again, so close to just laying there and rotting away until he can’t hurt anybody anymore. 

He thinks, _ I don’t deserve them.  _

Allison is sitting on the arm of the couch by Aaron, face clean of makeup and blonde hair pulled up into a messy bun. The over sized shirt she’s wearing is one of the boys’ and Kevin thinks it might be Seth’s. His stomach rolls at the thought. 

Renee is stoic and so Not Renee that it- Kevin can’t look at her dead on. She’s got a hand on Nicky’s back in an attempt to comfort him but she’s too busy zoning out to notice her attempt isn’t working. 

Dan’s crying and you can see it and Kevin thinks,  _ She’s like my sister. She’s my sister  _ _and-_

He chokes on air and Abby just sits there with him, singing the softest lullaby she can think of, and Kevin thinks, _ I’m too old for lullabies. _

Matt’s face is red and his hair is everywhere and he keeps moving his hands around like he doesn’t know what to do with them. Matt doesn’t handle things very well. He’s recovered but- but this could have triggered him and now Kevin could cause two- no, three, Aaron- relapses.

Disgust creeps up his throat and his can’t swallow it down no matter how hard he tries. 

He should have succeeded. 

He shouldn’t have done it in the first place. 

If he hates himself this much now, it’s going to be ten times worse when he’s sober and alive and breathing and-

He chokes it out, but he has to say it or otherwise he’ll never forgive himself, “I’m sorry.” 

It’s whispered and strangled and completely meaningless to them all but he’s trying, he’s fucking trying to make it okay. 

He knows it’s never going to be okay. 

After this, he’ll be treated as if he’s made of glass and the smallest movement could cause him to shatter. 

_ Mistake, mistake. It was a mistake, _ he thinks, over and over and over because his mouth is moving too slow for his mind. 

“Get him up.” It’s Wymack, his dad, his father, his coach, “Get him up- just,” He stops and Kevin feels like the worst son in the world. 

You find out you have a kid and over a year later that kid tries to off himself in the most dramatic fashion. What do you do? 

Kevin thinks,  _ you cry.  _

Kevin thinks,  _ you ask what you did wrong and how you could have helped.  _

If Kevin wasn’t Kevin and he was someone else, he would have punched his lights out already.

He doesn’t deserve their tears. He doesn’t deserve their love. 

Kevin’s crying before he can stop it and he wants to hug them all so bad and he wants to say he’s sorry again and again and again until they understand and he- 

He chokes out a sound, one that leaves his lungs empty and his eyes watering more. What if they had found Kevin dead? Would they ever be able to step into the dorm again? Would they pack up all his things in boxes and give them away?

Could all of his things fit in boxes? How many? Five? Ten?

They carry him to a car. They drive. Kevin hears a lot but he mainly hears arguing. He hears leftover sniffles from tears long past. He feels the grip on his arm, the two fingers digging into this pulse point. 

He knows it’s Andrew, just like he knows that his head is in Neil’s lap. 

He doesn’t deserve this. 

There’s talk about the press and a story and whether it’s safe to take him to a hospital. 

Kevin thinks, _ isn’t it awful that the first worry they have is whether or not the press can find out if I’m in the hospital? _

Kevin thinks,  _ I want to go home _ .

Wymack says something like  _ Abby’s couch _ and  _ there’s the spare bedroom _ and  _ we’re almost there.  _

Kevin’s brain is fried and he can’t keep his eyes open at all. He feels so tired of being awake. He wants to sleep so badly that his chest aches with it.

“Can I sleep?” He asks no one in particular.

Someone says, “No.” 

Kevin frowns. 

The bed engulfs him and he’s instantly too hot so he starts furiously taking off his clothes, flinging them around and throwing them every which way. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” 

“‘S hot.” Kevin doesn’t elaborate that his skin feels like it’s literally about to boil off his bones. Andrew seems to understand, though. 

“Go find some extra clothes,” He tells someone before he’s dragging a chair, one of the ones from the dining room, up to the side of Kevin’s bed. 

“Dude, stop thrashing around like that. You’re gonna knock someone out.” 

“’M stuck.”

“You’re not, but okay.” 

“Am so.” 

“Maybe if you opened your eyes.” 

Kevin whines, “I can’t. They’re too heavy.” 

“You can bench press over 300 pounds but you can’t lift two small eyelids? Okay, Kevin.” 

The last bit is said with such sarcasm that Kevin rolls his eyes in their sockets. 

“Are you two arguing?” Comes a new voice, Betsy, Kevin thinks. 

“He’s being dumb.” Andrew tells her and Kevin huffs. 

“Am not.”

“God, you’re like a child inside of a twenty-one year old man’s body.” 

“At least people like me.” 

“Newsflash, dude, no one likes you.” 

It wasn’t meant to hurt Kevin, that much he knew. Andrew’s tone was too playful to be mean. It still hurt him all the same, though, and the whimper he let out was involuntary. 

He thinks,  _ no one likes me. Andrew doesn’t and Neil doesn’t and Allison doesn’t and Dan- _

He thinks, _ I should be rotting in the ground staring at Riko’s lifeless corpse.  _

“Andrew didn’t mean that,” Betsy says but Kevin doesn’t believe her. He doesn’t believe anything anymore. He could be making this whole thing up. This could all be one huge twisted dream that he can’t get out of. Kevin’s dreaming. He has to be.

He won’t stay sane otherwise. 

“Hey, Kev,” It’s Neil, or at least someone who sounds an awful lot like him. Kevin grunts in response. 

“Can I put clothes on you? I mean, you’re totally rocking those Scooby-Doo boxers but I don’t think you want any more people to see you in them.” 

Kevin has Scooby-Doo boxers on? That’s dope as fuck. 

“Yeah,” He hums and tries to pull his eyes open. It’s a challenge but he can sense Neil like he’s Andrew, so it doesn’t really matter if his eyes are open or not. He knows where Neil is going to touch without having to see.

He wonders, if they’re both connected to him like that. Or to each other. Was Kevin the only one with a sixth sense regarding these two? 

Neil’s hands are cold and small but they lift him up easy and Andrew helps, only after Neil asks if he can. 

Andrew’s hands are different than Neil’s in a way that’s hard for Kevin to put into words. 

Both of their hands are strong and calloused from Exy. Neil’s scars brush against Kevin’s skin and it takes everything in him not to cry. Andrew’s hands are warm but he’s shaking like a leaf, caught in the whirlwind of Kevin Day.

Kevin feels so bad, so overwhelmingly bad and guilty and disgusting. 

He wants to puke, to die, to never open his eyes again. 

He hurt them. He deserves every harsh word thrown his way. He deserves it.

Abby’s in there next. He feels her weight shift on the bed as she crawls around him like a five year old playing in the sandbox. She’s probably uncomfortable and Kevin should try to move and allow her to be more comfortable in her own home-

He goes to sit up but the hand on his chest, Andrew’s, pushes him down.

“Stay,” He says, barely there. Whispered. Small. Soft.

Kevin feels sick with it. 

A hot feeling crawls up his spine and then his neck. He feels it all over his head, like he’s burning alive in his own skin. His throat goes dry and empty and no matter how many times he swallows, he can’t get the feeling to come back to it. 

He lurches up so fast, Abby nearly topples off the bed in surprise. Kevin’s eyes fly open and he watches Neil catch her with an easy move that Kevin taught him.

He thinks,  _ he’s a really good striker.  _

He thinks,  _ I’m going to be sick. _

He looks at Andrew and it’s like he knows, he knows Kevin’s dying and there’s something more than bile rolling up his throat. 

The bucket is black and huge and used for mopping Abby’s floors. Kevin feels bad for throwing up in it. 

He’s mumbling “I’m sorry,” over and over into the bowl, through his spit and tears and snot and vomit. It’s disgusting. It’s heartbreaking. 

Abby can barely watch. Betsy is sitting in the corner, observing more than just Andrew. Her eyes are glassy with tears and Kevin feels ashamed. Betsy had- had heard the worst parts of every Foxes life and here he was, making her work, her life, just a little bit harder. 

“I didn’t mean it,” He gasps out over the bucket, one hand in his hair and the other curled so tightly on the buckets rim that his knuckles are turning white. 

White. 

He hates it. 

He tries to give Aaron and Nicky new colors, tries to think of something that’s positive as he’s hunched over the bucket, snot dripping and tears falling. 

He thinks about colors and he thinks about how Aaron Minyard might be Andrew Minyard’s twin, but they are nothing alike. He thinks about Nicky and how he is the only reason Kevin laughs sometimes. 

It hurts his brain but he forces himself through it. He needs to give them a color just as badly as he needs to get the pills out of his system. 

He thinks,  _ Nicky.  _

And then he thinks,  _ Red. _

Red high top converse. Red hat hung on his best post. Red phone case. Red painted nails. Red lipstick smeared across his lips for the Palmetto Pride parade. Red pen marks on his hands from where he doodles on them in class. 

He thinks,  _ Aaron.  _

And then he thinks,  _ Blue. Navy blue.  _

Navy blue sweatshirt with some band’s tour dates on the back. Navy blue backpack stuffed with biochem homework and textbooks. Navy blue mechanical pencil twirling between his fingers as he studies. Navy blue and white bead bracelet with Katelyn’s initials in the middle. Navy blue and purple black eye he’d gotten in the middle of an on court brawl.

Kevin feels whole again. Feels better. Feels okay. Feels like he doesn’t need to puke anymore. 

He makes a noise, or something, and Andrew’s there to take the bucket and hand him a tissue. He wipes his mouth and makes another noise so Andrew’s gives him the bucket back. 

He spits. It tastes like blood. 

He coughs and thinks about how badly he wants to brush his teeth. 

Andrew takes it again once he’s done and gets up to go clean it out. Kevin feels absolutely disgusting. He needs to shower. 

It’s like his brain is turning back on all at once and he can feel every single thing that’s ever touched him ever.

He feels cold without Andrew. He feels cold so deep within his soul that he’s afraid he’ll never be able to dig it out. It’s like a pit has opened up inside him and there’s no chance of him ever sewing it back up. 

He feels defeated. Dead. Dying. Gross. Sick. Stupid.

It’s a lot, all at once, and when Abby touches his wrist it’s almost too much. 

He flinches and she drops his wrist. 

“What?” She asks and he closes his eyes and rolls away from her. 

“Can I brush my teeth?” 

“Nicky’s packing your essentials and bringing them over as soon as he can. You can wait until then or I can see if I have any new ones left over from summer.”

“Summer.” Kevin says and she nods, going to pat his leg but stops. She rolls off the bed and leaves him there. 

Betsy is quiet. He doesn’t like it. 

Neil is quieter than her, which isn’t unusual, but it makes something in Kevin want to cry again. 

Neil sits in Andrew’s seat and just looks. 

Kevin feels over exposed. Vulnerable. Weak. 

He shivers and Neil takes a hoodie off the end of the bed and gestures to Kevin with it. Kevin nods. 

It’s a process, getting the stupid bright orange hoodie on, but they do it and Kevin feels okay again. 

“How are you feeling?” Neil asks and Kevin doesn’t know which word he should say. 

“Too much.” Kevin replies and he knows it doesn’t make sense but Neil seems to get it. The red head nods and drops his head to the small space between Kevin and the edge of the bed.

“I thought-” Neil chokes and Kevin feels his heart rip slightly in half. “I thought you were going to die. I thought… I thought about my mom and about Seth and how you’re nothing like them and how you-” 

Kevin places a hand in Neil’s hair and just holds it there, thumb rubbing soothing circles around and around. He feels the tension leave Neil’s body in a single breath and then he’s crying and sniffling and letting Kevin touch his head and Kevin has never felt more like an asshole than he does right now. 

He thinks, _ I didn’t think.  _

He thinks,  _ I was foolish.  _

He thinks,  _ I could have damaged them beyond repair.  _

"I’m not gonna die, Neil.” He tells him with the strongest voice he can muster. He’s not sure how anyone can understand him, though. His words sound like there’s no spaces in between them. “I’m not gonna because Andrew won’t let me.” 

Neil snorts but it turns into a sob. 

Kevin opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing wants to come out. He feels so dumb, so  _ stupid  _ for thinking they would ever leave him. 

They were his  _ family. _

That word had never meant anything to Kevin before. 

He swallows and scrunches his face in disgust. He  _ really  _ wants to brush his teeth. 

“I-“ He starts, but he doesn’t know- he doesn’t fucking know what he can say to make everything okay. 

He thinks,  _ there’s nothing you can do or say that will change what you just did.  _

He thinks,  _ I ruined it.  _

He thinks,  _ ruined what exactly? _

He says, “Don’t blame yourselves.” 

“Andrew already blames himself.” 

Kevin knows, he knows and he doesn’t want to. It’s horrible, this feeling in his heart. The stabbing pain that says, _ This isn’t something you can fix.  _

Andrew comes back then, clean bucket in hand. He nudges Neil over and sits halfway on the chair and halfway on Neil’s lap. It’s casual and easy and Kevin marvels at it. 

“This is a pretty big bed,” He says and Andrew quirks an eyebrow at him. 

“If we’re up there, then who’s gonna hand you your puke bucket, Day?” 

Kevin laughs, but it’s hollow and dreadful and he never wants to hear it leave his mouth ever again. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for kevin's thoughts cuz he gets detailed a little bit
> 
> also didn't proof read this so if there are any mistakes im sorry!!! 
> 
> luv u be safe

Two weeks. 

It’d been two weeks and Kevin was ‘feeling better’.

Whatever the fuck that meant. 

Betsy’s office hadn’t changed in the three years Kevin had been at Palmetto. It still had the glass knick-knacks on one shelf in front of a bunch of self help books that did nothing for no one. It still had the coffee maker in the corner that she used to make hot chocolate. It still had the framed photos of the Foxes on the wall. 

Kevin had disliked it at first. He disliked having to talk to someone about issues he’d always dealt with himself. In the Nest, there were no therapists and no mental illness. You dealt with your shit or you burned out. 

Kevin had seen too many good players fall through the cracks. 

He should have fallen through the cracks. 

He wasn’t strong enough for the Nest, never had been. Still isn’t.

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and slouched down in it further. The Master would have knocked him upside the head if he saw Kevin sitting like this. It was _improper,_ or whatever the fuck. 

Kevin rolled his eyes at the thought and crossed his arms. The Master was dead, or something. He’d moved back to Tokyo after Riko died.

Kevin had heard no news about The Master's death. 

If he wasn’t dead yet, Ichirou would see that he ended up that way. 

The thought of the Lord made Kevin want to get up and leave. He knew there was nowhere under the sun he could hide, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to want to. 

Kevin had a collar around his neck and the tag on it would have the same name on it until the day he died.

He would forever belong to the Moriyamas.

“Here you go, love,” Betsy muttered as she handed Kevin a mug of hot chocolate. The mug had a dog in a Christmas hat on it. Kevin wanted to smash it just for the sake of smashing something. The dog’s dopey eyes and lopsided smile seemed to scream at him. 

_You could be happy like this, if only you were willing to try._

Kevin wasn’t. 

He was bred for misery. 

“So, how have you been?” Betsy asked as she sat in her desk chair. Soft music played so low from her computer that Kevin could barely hear it. 

The atmosphere wasn’t threatening in the slightest, but Kevin still felt attacked. 

How had he been? 

He thinks, _shit._

He thinks, _tired._

He thinks, _I would be better off dead._

He doesn’t say these things, of course, because Kevin Day was a star. Plastering on his media smile and acting like everything was okay was what he was trained for. 

So, he smiled. He lied. He worked his way around her questions and gave vague answers that sounded anything but vague. 

The lies came so naturally, now, that Kevin was almost scared. 

He might have orange on his bones, but there was red and black there too. He’d never be able to scrub the colors off. He was a Fox but he’d forever be a Raven. 

He looked at Betsy as she talked and he tried to pick out a color for her. He had colors for nearly everyone else, but she didn’t fit into anything. 

Betsy was… she wasn’t any color and that- that made Kevin uncomfortable. 

Everyone had a color. 

Everyone. 

“What’s your favorite color?” He asked. 

She stopped talking to him and cocked her head, one hand wrapped around her Palmetto mug and the other resting gently on the desk. 

“Why do you ask?” She questioned. 

He thinks, _I could tell her about my colors._

He thinks, _my colors are safe._

“Everyone has a color.” He said, but realized that it probably only made sense to him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Everyone has a color. Andrew, Neil, Nicky, Dan, Matt. Everyone.” 

“What color is Dan?” 

“Green.” He replied. 

“Why?” 

Kevin pulled his legs up to his chest. Another thing he would have been hit for. He should put his legs down. He could almost feel The Master right behind him, lifting his cane, ready to beat the sloppiness out of him. 

Kevin put his legs down and leaned forward, slightly. It wasn’t enough to be noticeable and not enough to make him feel comfortable with having his back to the room.

“She- uh,” Kevin tried. He couldn’t help it as he turned his head to look behind him. He was so sure The Master would be there, waiting, just waiting for Kevin to make one more wrong move. 

The fear and anxiety that rolled in his chest was real and tangible. It felt like his stomach was eating itself alive. It felt like his chest was burning from the inside out. 

He cowered involuntarily and flinched, feeling the cane come down across his back.

He clamped his eyes shut and realized it was a mistake the moment he did it.

He saw nothing but black.

The memory his brain decided to conjure up nearly split his chest in two.

They had watched as the door closed behind them, Kayleigh Day smiling and waving at Kevin as it shut. Riko had held his hand as he led the way down the stairs to his new home. Kevin didn’t know what Hell looked like then, but he knows now. 

He gasped for air and hit the carpeted ground of Besty’s office. He backed up from the desk so fast he toppled the chair he’d been sitting in over. 

Betsy was saying something to him but all he could hear was that awful song. The drumming Ravens anthem rang in his ears and he couldn’t block it out. 

His back hit the wall and he curled in on himself as he clamped his hands over his ears.

He thinks, _this isn’t real._

He thinks, _snap out of it._

He thinks, _they’re here for me._

He thinks, _they’re here to take me away._

“Kevin,” It was Betsy’s voice but that wasn’t right. 

Betsy was at Palmetto, safe. She didn’t belong in the Nest. 

Kevin saw himself playing on an all black court. He saw his own hands grasped around Jean’s to keep him from fighting back. He saw red blood drip down his hand. He saw his own face in a mirror before he smashed his head against it, the mirror shattering into a million pieces. 

Kevin’s reflection smiled evilly at him before picking up a piece of mirror and raising his scarred hand. 

Kevin watched as the mirror pierced the skin of his left hand and ripped the tendons to shreds. 

He’d never play again. 

He was _supposed_ to never play again. 

He should have taken the coaching job Riko had offered. 

He should have gone back. _He should have gone back to Riko._

“Kevin.”

There it was again, Betsy’s voice. It was soft and calm and Kevin hated it. 

He deserved this. He deserved every cut, slap, hit, and scrap he got. He didn’t deserve soft voices and warm hands and hugs and people who cared about him.

He wasn’t human, he was a possession. Possessions didn’t deserve anything.

He felt her palm on his arm and he flinched away from it. 

_I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve it._

Two whole weeks and he was meant to be doing better. 

Is this what better felt like? 

It took him minutes that felt like hours, but when he finally opened his eyes all he saw was Betsy’s blonde hair and blue eyes. He saw her soft smile and heard her sigh of relief. 

He thought it was a dream. It had to be. 

“Hey,” She smiled, so warm and calming and everything that Kevin had never got as a child. 

“Hi,” He replied, broken and splintered. It sounded nothing like him. He hated it. 

He had to remind himself that he wasn’t a him. He was a thing. 

He didn’t have a name, just a number. 

His hand went to his tattoo involuntarily and he pressed his finger to the chess piece. 

He’d gotten the two covered. Riko was going to be mad. The Master would beat him for it. 

He wasn’t allowed to make decisions this big without them. When had they allowed him do this? 

He scratched at his cheek, softly at first and then harshly. He wanted it off. He wanted it _off._

“Hey,” Betsy said, the slight frantic tone to her voice scaring Kevin. “Hey, hey, hey, stop that.” 

She grabbed his wrist gently, so unlike what he was used to. 

Andrew’s grip was firm. Neil never touched him. Riko’s grip was always harsh. 

“There’s no need for that, hon,” She whispered and Kevin felt so small and childlike and dead inside and fuck- he missed his mom. 

He missed his mom with every horrible beat of his ugly heart. 

He was crying before he could stop it and he shut his eyes again just to see- just to see if his brain was going to be nice to him, for once, and show him Kayleigh Day in all her angelic glory. 

He saw her, shrouded in light, towering over him and making silly faces. He heard his childish giggle and knew he was making faces back at her. 

He wiped furiously at his eyes and tried to control himself. He didn’t want Betsy to see him like this. 

He was weak, he knew that, but that didn’t mean everyone else had to know too.

He wanted to go back and be a kid again. He wanted to have picnics with his grandparents and run through their garden and feel the dirt squish between his toes. He wanted to play catch with his dad (if his dad had been in the picture) and he wanted to have bedtime stories read to him and he wanted and wanted and _wanted_. 

Betsy sat there with him as he cried, held his scarred hand in hers and waited. She was so patient and too kind to someone like Kevin. 

He was just as bad as Riko. He’d hurt his family and he’d covered up his tattoo and he left Riko to rot alone in Virginia. He left him there. 

Kevin never did the leaving. 

And the one time he had, the person he loved most in the world died.

Riko died. He _died._

Kevin wanted to bash his head into a mirror for real. He wanted to feel the blood run down his arm as he slit it open with the broken pieces of his reflection. He wanted to rip himself apart from the inside out. 

He stopped crying and rested his forehead on his knees and wished that he could be anybody but himself in that moment. He wished he knew what he was supposed to feel. He wished he knew what he felt, in general.

Emotions were so hard to pinpoint, sometimes. 

“So, you wanna talk about it or do you wanna talk about colors?” Betsy asked once he’d stopped shaking. 

He looked up at her, eyes wet and face red and just stared. 

She was definitely yellow. 

But not Renee yellow.

She was the epitome of the sun and sunflowers and a light the moment you turned it on. 

She was almost too bright.

“Colors,” Kevin replied. 

She sat on the ground with him and kept her hand in his. He didn’t know if she was doing it to help him stay grounded or because she was afraid that if she let go he might try something. 

_He_ was afraid that if she let go he might try something. 

“So,” She began, “Why is Dan green?”

“Because I told her about my mom and she- she didn’t make fun of me for it.” 

“Why would she make fun of you?”

“Because it was personal and not a Kevin Day thing to talk about.”

“Why does it matter if it was a ‘Kevin Day’ thing or not?” She asked and he shrugged. “Kevin Day isn’t a brand or a thing, he’s you. You’re not your name, Kevin, and you’re not who the Ravens made you to be.” 

She said it just like that, casual and easy. It wasn’t easy. It was anything but easy.

Kevin Day _was_ a brand. He was one of the sons of Exy. He had to uphold his reputation. He couldn’t be like… _this_ in the public’s eye.

He didn’t believe her, but he nodded like he did anyways. 

“You don’t believe me, do you?” She asked, a small smirk on her face.

“If I say that I do does that mean you’ll let me out of here early?” Kevin sniffled and smirked back.

“I thought you wanted to talk about colors?” She quirked an eyebrow and he shrugged again. 

“I do, but not today. I feel… raw.” He said it like it would make sense but Kevin knew that it didn’t. At least to Betsy, anyways. 

He felt exposed and scrapped and like his insides were on his outsides. He wanted to take a long nap and wake up and feel okay. He wanted to feel anything but what he was feeling right now.

“My favorite color’s blue, by the way.” She told him as they got up. 

He grimaced, “You’re yellow.”

“Am I? And what color is your dad?” 

Kevin flinched at the wording. Coach was his dad, technically, but he’d always be Coach in Kevin’s brain. 

“Orange.” 

“Understandable.” She nodded, “Here, let me walk you out.” 

Neil was waiting for him and stood up once they appeared in the waiting area. “All good?” He asked and Kevin just brushed past him towards the doors. Andrew was probably outside smoking. He’d take second hand smoke to cramped doctor’s office any day. 

Andrew was leaned against the side of the Maserati, head tilted back and smoke billowing out of his mouth all slow and easy. It was pretty. 

Andrew was pretty. 

“How was it?” He asked once Kevin had leaned against the car next to him. Their height difference truly was amusing but Kevin didn’t think Andrew was in the mood to be teased about how short he was. 

“Shit,” Kevin sniffled and Andrew nodded.

“Always is.” He replied.

Kevin looked up at the sky and tried to count the stars. He and his mother used to lay on a blanket in their backyard and see if they could count them all. His mother always managed to count more than he could. 

“You know any constellations?” He asked Andrew, who had dropped his cigarette on the ground and stomped it out.

“No.”

“Liar,” Kevin smirked. 

“Maybe fuckin’ whiz kid over there knows,” Andrew said, gesturing to where Neil was coming out of the building.

“Yo, Josten,” Kevin called, “Know anything about stars?”

“No, why the fuck would I know anything about stars?” Neil said once he’d walked up.

“Andrew thinks you might,” Kevin smiled, “Called you a whiz kid and everything.” 

“He’s the one with a perfect memory yet I’m the whiz kid? Okay,” Neil snorted. 

“Don’t be sarcastic,” Andrew said, climbing into the car, “That’s my thing.” 

They bickered all the way back to the Tower and Kevin- Kevin felt like a hole in his chest was slowly being filled. 

He couldn’t explain why being with them and hearing them talk and fight and just _be_ was so… so breathtaking, but it was. 

He felt… _right_ when he was with them. Like he wasn’t a commodity.

He didn’t need to pretend to be okay around them.

They had seen every ugly part of him. There was nothing to hide. 

Kevin liked it. Liked that he could be… _free_ with them.

“We’re going up to the roof,” Andrew muttered once he’d parked at the Tower. Kevin nodded as he climbed out of the car. 

They got off the elevator together but Neil stopped Kevin when he tried to head towards their dorm. Kevin turned a confused look on him.

The roof was an Andrew and Neil thing, not an Andrew and Neil and Kevin thing. 

“What?” He asked and Neil dropped his hand from Kevin’s arm. 

“There’s no one at the dorm,” He said and Kevin felt all the good feelings he’d built up in the car deflate. 

He meant there was no one to watch him.

Kevin sighed.

“Oh,” He said.

“Oh.” Andrew mocked and snatched him by the arm to push him towards the stairwell. 

The roof was chilly, but then again, it always was. Kevin never understood why Andrew liked it so much up here, but he could understand why they stole small moments up here together. 

It was quiet. 

The dorm rooms had always been a whirlwind of noise and frantic energy. Someone was always fighting or partying or drunkenly singing at four AM. 

Kevin was sorta glad they made him come with. He wanted to be alone but at the same time he didn’t. He also knew he shouldn’t really be left alone anymore but he pushed that thought from his mind.

The view was too pretty to taint with his dark thoughts.

Palmetto stretched out below them and Kevin felt like he could see the whole campus. Students were walking back to their dorms and the streetlights that lined Perimeter Road flickered. Forgotten streamers swayed in the wind off the lamp posts that dotted the campus. 

It was beautiful.

“Junkie,” Andrew snorted and Neil slapped his arm.

“Leave him alone,” Neil muttered. 

Kevin rolled his eyes, “I’m not fragile.”

“You are.” Neil replied and when Kevin opened his mouth to protest, Andrew slapped a hand on his shoulder and forced him to sit down on the ledge. 

“Shut up,” Andrew muttered, sitting down next to Kevin, “It’s quiet time.” 

“We’re not five, asshole,” Kevin grumbled, but huddled in his spot nonetheless. 

Andrew rolled his eyes but didn’t warrant Kevin’s words with a reply.

Neil sat on Andrew’s other side and took the cigarette that was offered to him. 

Kevin knew the story, knew why Neil preferred to just let the thing burn rather than ruin his lungs. 

He knew why, but he’d never understand how. 

How he could pick his mother’s bones out of a burnt out car and shove them in a backpack. How he could dig a hole in the sand and bury her there. How he could leave her.

Neil was so strong, in more ways than one. He’d- he’d been through too much and yet, here he was, living his life. 

Kevin wondered why he hadn’t tried to end it. 

Maybe it was because Neil knew he’d be dead in the end anyways, and he knew that he didn’t want to take the cowards way out. He was going to die fighting or not at all. 

Kevin wished he could be like that. He wished he had the courage to just live. 

Andrew’s thigh pressed against his and Kevin moved his gaze from Palmetto to his shoes. 

Kevin wondered what would happen if he just... slipped off the ledge. 

Would Andrew try to grab him? Would Neil? Would they just watch him fall to his long awaited death?

The drop wasn’t that far but Kevin scooted closer to the edge anyways. 

The thrill that raced up his spine shouldn’t have been as satisfying as it was. He didn’t think he _truly_ wanted to die anymore, but being this close to death again- it was messing with his brain. 

He loved it. 

In a split second, he could go over and just- just not be here anymore. 

It was exciting. 

“Hey, dumbass,” Andrew muttered as he put a hand across Kevin’s chest and pushed him back, “Sit back, I’m not catching you if you fall.”

Neil snorted, “Liar.” 

“I do not appreciate the name calling, Josten.” 

Neil leaned around Andrew to look at Kevin, hand cupped around his mouth like he was trying to hide what he was going to say from Andrew, “He loves it when I call him names.” 

Andrew’s other hand smacked Neil on the thigh, “Shut up, Josten, or I’ll push you over.”

“I’d take you with me,” Neil replied and there was a twinkle in his eye that suggested that they’d had this conversation many times before.

Kevin liked it. 

He liked how easy it felt with them. He liked that they could just sit like this, without words or with them, and stare out at the world. It felt like it was meant to be, that Kevin was born to sit by Andrew and Neil’s sides while they just watched the world around them move in slow motion. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Andrew huffed, taking a drag from his cigarette. He leaned over and grabbed Neil by the chin, his hand moving slow enough that Neil could stop him if he wanted to. Neil’s mouth opened automatically and Andrew blew the smoke into it was ease. 

Neil blew it back out in the chilly air. 

Kevin looked at his shoes again. 

He could almost hear the sound his bones would make as they hit the sidewalk below. He imagined that split second before he hit, that one moment of nothing but the air rushing past his ears and his stomach dropping. 

He understood why people jumped off buildings. 

They wanted to feel free. 

Kevin thought he was free, but he knew that he wasn’t and he was never going to be. Neither was Neil. Or Jean. 

The thought sank through his head until it settled at the bottom of his throat, choking him. He swallowed and tried to dislodge it, but it wouldn’t budge. 

Andrew’s hand was still on his chest. 

He wanted to grab it and hold on to it, to ground himself to the here and now. He wanted to forget thinking and forget his imagination and everything else that made him want to die. 

He- he couldn’t bring himself to move his hand though. He knew that Andrew had a thing about touching, everyone did. 

He also knew about Drake and about- about everyone else who’d ever laid a hand on Andrew. 

He wanted to rip each of their throats out and burn them alive for the sheer pleasure of hearing them scream.

He also wanted to have Andrew to grab his chin and blow smoke into his mouth, too. 

Andrew’s hand dropped from his chest to his thigh and Kevin swallowed again. 

Andrew’s hand stayed there as they sat. Kevin didn’t move a muscle, didn’t try to take more than he was given. 

Kevin wondered if Andrew was actually worried he was going to jump. Why else would he keep a hand on him? 

“So, Kev,” Neil started and smirked in Andrew’s face when the blonde man turned a death glare on him. “What’s the thing with the colors?”

“Huh?” Kevin had been so lost in thought he nearly missed the question. 

“The colors. You asked about them after… ya know, and Betsy mentioned them to me.” 

That fucking _traitor._

“What do you wanna know?” Kevin’s eyes were on Andrew’s hands as he lit up another cigarette. That really wasn’t healthy for him but their argument about Andrew’s smoking had been over for nearly a year. Andrew would stop when he wanted to stop. 

“I dunno, anything. I’m just curious.” 

Andrew didn’t look like he was listening but Kevin knew better. 

“They’re just colors.” Kevin shrugged and Neil rolled his eyes. 

“You and I both know they’re not just colors.” 

“You want me to explain them all?” 

“What do you mean explain them all? Is there like a five page essay?”

“There’s a book.” Kevin replied and Neil’s eyebrows quirked. 

“I don’t like reading.” Neil told him.

“Guess you’ll never know then, huh?” Kevin answered, a small smile on his face.

Neil rolled his eyes. He’d been doing that an awful lot lately. 

“What’s your favorite color, Kevin?” Andrew suddenly asked and Kevin dropped his gaze from Neil’s face to Andrew’s. He was staring down at the ground between his feet, face blank and cigarette smoke curling from between his fingers.

Kevin thinks, _pretty._

Kevin thinks, _no one’s ever asked me that before._

Kevin thinks, _I don’t know how to explain this._

“Well,” He starts, “Everyone has a color.”

“Huh?” This was Neil.

“Renee is yellow, Dan is green, Matt is blue, Allison is purple, Nicky is red, Aaron is blue, too, but he’s navy blue, Coach is orange, and Betsy’s sunflower yellow.” 

“Hm,” Neil hummed, “What color am I?”

“Pink.”

“What?” Neil sputtered and a rare smile spread across Andrew’s face. 

“You’re pink.” Kevin replied like it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“Pink- _pink_? I thought I’d be orange or something, not pink.” Neil looked confused. Kevin didn’t want to explain why, exactly, Neil was pink. The atmosphere was too light-hearted right now.

Kevin scrunched his face up, “You’d never be orange.” 

“And why not?” 

“Because you’re pink.” 

“Okay, yeah, that _totally_ makes sense.” Neil rolled his eyes and nodded at the same time. 

“Your sarcasm is getting way out of hand, Josten,” Kevin told him and all Neil did was shrug in response.

“Maybe,” Neil replied, “but at least I understand jokes now.” 

It was Kevin’s turn to roll his eyes.

“What color am I?” Andrew suddenly asked and Kevin froze.

He thinks, _he can’t know._

He thinks, _he might know already._

He thinks, _fuck it._

“All of them.” 

Neil froze. It was a split second of time but Kevin caught it, nonetheless. Andrew’s entire body tensed for three complete seconds before he relaxed and his thumb made a quick swipe where it was placed on Kevin’s thigh. 

“Oh, really?” Andrew asked, “And why is that?”

Kevin thinks, _I’m a stupid fucking idiot._

He thinks, _this was not a good idea_.

He thinks, _I really wanna take a nap._

“I-“ Kevin starts but then stops. He doesn’t even know what to say. If he explained _why_ it would sound like he was in lov-

Yeah, no, that was _not_ fucking happening right now. 

“You just- you just are.” Kevin said and Andrew cocked his head at him, face blank but eyes full of questions that had no answers. 

Well, they _had_ answers but Kevin wasn’t willing to give them up just yet.

“Okay, then why is Neil pink?” Andrew asked.

Kevin hesitated. 

“Come on, I wanna know why I got pink, of all the fuckin’ colors in the rainbow.” Neil whined. 

“You sure?” Kevin asked. 

“Yes, I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.” 

“You’re like- sure sure?” Kevin tried one more time to put an end to it. 

Andrew gave him another look like he understood why Kevin was stalling. 

“Yes, I’m sure sure.” Neil huffed and Kevin looked at his shoes for a third time. 

“Your scars.” 

It was deadly quiet. 

Kevin didn’t look up, didn’t want to. 

Andrew’s hand tightened on his thigh and he tried to focus on it as much as he could. 

“My- my what? What, Kevin?” Neil’s voice was quiet and small. Vulnerable. 

Kevin didn’t want to like it but he did. 

It meant he and Neil were the same in some ways.

“They’re pink.” Was all Kevin could say. 

He thinks, _you fucking idiot._

He thinks, _you fucked everything up._

He thinks, _this is what I ruined. I ruined them._

He thinks, _I should probably go inside._

He tried to get up but Andrew’s hand wouldn’t let him.

“No shit, dumbass.” Neil says, snatching at Andrew’s pack of cigarettes and lighting up. Andrew and Kevin watched as Neil took a long drag. Kevin wants to scowl at him but he doesn’t think now’s the time for a smoking lecture. 

“No, you don’t- they’re pink and they-” Kevin doesn’t know how to finish that sentence. 

“Shut up before you offend somebody.” Neil tells him and Kevin does.

Everything goes quiet and Kevin looks at his shoes again. He hears his bones breaking as he hits the sidewalk below. He feels his brain rattling around in his skull. He feels the blood seeping out from under him and onto the sidewalk. 

“Wait, so why is Matt blue?” Neil suddenly asks and Kevin’s daydream is torn apart. 

“What?”

“Why would Matt be blue? Scars aren’t blue.” 

Kevin groaned, “It’s not about the scars, it’s about-”

He stops and Neil takes another drag of his cigarette. Kevin’s notices that Andrew’s other hand has found its way to underneath the back of Neil’s shirt.

Kevin doesn’t want to think about it too much.

“Matt’s truck was blue.”

“Yeah, okay?” 

“It was the first car I’d ever driven outside of the Evermore stadium parking lot.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” Kevin echoed. 

“Then what about Dan?” Neil asked and Kevin sighed.

“Yeah, why would Dan be green? She reminds me of the color blue.” Andrew inserted and Kevin rolled his eyes. This was too complicated. 

“I told Dan about my mom and she had a huge St. Patrick’s day party for me.” 

“That was for you? Says who?” Andrew asked.

“Says me.” Kevin replied, sticking his tongue out at Andrew in a childlike gesture of defiance. 

“Navy blue? Aaron’s definitely green.” Neil interjected. 

“No!” Kevin protested, “He used to be white but- but I don’t like white.” 

“Okay then, red for Nicky? Nicky’s definitely yellow.” 

“Shut up,” Kevin sighed. He put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. 

“I wanna know why Andrew gets every color and everyone else gets one. That’s unfair.” Neil pointed out. 

“Are you seriously whining about Kevin’s favorite colors right now?” 

“Hey, it’s a fair point!” 

“You’re just jealous that I’m the fucking rainbow and you’re not.” 

“Maybe I am, so what? I thought you didn’t believe in jealousy.”

“Just because I don’t believe in it doesn’t mean you don’t either.” 

And they were bickering. 

And Kevin felt whole again. 

They stopped talking after a moment and they sat there, staring, for another thirty minutes. Kevin felt… like he was at peace. It was peaceful with them. 

They made him quiet in a way that no one else, nothing else, ever had. 

Which was a hard thing to do because he never shut up.

The dorm was dark when they opened the door. 

“It’s only eight,” Neil muttered to Kevin, “Wanna watch an Exy game before bed?”

Kevin didn’t, so he shook his head.

Neil gave him a bewildered look. 

“Andrew,” He said nervously, “Did you break Kevin when I wasn’t looking?” 

Kevin felt a rare smile break out onto his face and he playfully hit Neil in the arm, “Shut up, Josten.” 

“Ow,” Neil pouted and rubbed his arm in the spot Kevin had hit him, “I have a first name, ya know. A lot of people use it.”

“Just because they use it doesn’t mean I have to,” Kevin shot back and Neil rolled his eyes. 

“Call me Neil or call me nothing.” 

“Okay, Nothing,” Kevin smirked, “Put on that one show with the- the fights and shit. What’s it called?” 

He looked at Andrew while he said it but realized the blonde had disappeared into the kitchen. Andrew had popped the top off a brand new ice cream carton and was shoveling some into his mouth. 

It was oddly endearing. 

“ _Jerry Springer_?” Andrew offered around a mouthful of chocolate ice cream and spoon. 

“Yeah, _Jerry Springer_.” 

“You want to watch _Jerry Springer_? Of all things?” 

Kevin gave Neil a look, “Yeah, why not?”

“I think you seriously broke him, Andrew.” Neil looked at the blonde. Andrew just shrugged in response. 

Kevin kicked his shoes off and pulled his hoodie sleeves over his hands. He was still cold. Kevin didn’t know how Andrew could spend hours up there at night, Kevin would have died from hypothermia within the first three minutes. 

He leaned his hip against the counter next to Andrew and opened his mouth expectantly. 

Andrew eyed him and quirked an eyebrow, but shoved a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth anyways. 

“So,” Neil started as he entered the kitchen after turning on the TV in the living room, “Where’s the real Kevin and what have you done with him?”

“How do you know I’m not the real Kevin?” 

“Kevin doesn’t eat ice cream.” Neil countered and Kevin rolled his eyes. 

“Kevin does eat ice cream.”

“Okay, Other Kevin, whatever you say. Just don’t come near me, I don’t trust you.” 

Kevin had to remind himself that that last part was a joke. 

“Trust me or don’t, we still have to go to sleep in the same room tonight,” Kevin muttered as he accepted another spoonful. 

“I can sleep on the couch,” Neil replied, waving the spoon away when Andrew offered him some. 

“But you won’t.” 

“Says who?” 

“Me,” Andrew muttered. 

Neil laughed. 

They migrated as a group towards the living room and Kevin spread out on the couch after the other two had taken their seats in the bean bags. 

They watched TV until Andrew, who had decided it was bedtime, got up. 

Kevin was half asleep on the couch by this point, and refused to move. 

He whined when Neil flicked him in the forehead.

“Be nice,” Andrew scolded.

“I'm always nice,” Neil scoffed.

“Okay Mr. I have an attitude problem,” Andrew rolled his eyes. 

“You like my attitude ‘problem’.”

“No, I don’t.” 

“Liar.”

“Shut up,” Andrew said for the millionth time in his life, “Kev, get up. Time to go sleepy bye.” 

Kev. 

He’d been called it millions of times by millions of people but when Andrew called him it-

It made Kevin’s chest all warm and stuffy and nice. Good. Happy.

Riko never called him Kev. Just _Kevin_ and _Day_ and _Number Two._

“But I’m comfortable,” He complained.

“Go be comfortable in your bed.” 

Kevin groaned like a child and stomped off towards the bedroom, Neil on his heels.

“You drooled on Nicky’s favorite throw pillow.” Neil told him. 

“I did not,” Kevin snapped back.

“You did,” Andrew countered and Kevin shook his head. He was too tired for their dumbass (but rather cute) arguments right now. 

They moved around each other easily, each taking turns changing. Kevin brushed his teeth over Neil’s shoulder once Andrew had vacated the bathroom.

Neil flopped on his bed first and instantly turned his back to the room as he muttered a soft, “Night, Kev.”

“Night.”

Kevin walked over to his bed and stared at it. 

It was neatly made, corners tucked under and Fox printed blanket laid over the end. 

He’d never been able to kick the habit of not leaving his bed a mess, like Nicky often did. In the Nest, he had to make it everyday or there’d be hell to pay. 

If he looked at it hard enough, he could almost see the black comforter and the black headboard and the black pillows. He could almost see the red and black bandanna Riko had hung over one of the bed posts when they were twelve.

Everything they had matched. 

Clothes, blank stares, fake smiles, trauma.

They had been one single entity since they were seven years old. 

Kevin shuddered. 

“It’s just a bed,” He heard from behind him and Kevin jumped at the sudden voice. 

He’d been so deep in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed that Andrew had entered the bedroom and turned the light off. 

“Maybe to you,” Kevin replied and he heard Andrew scoff. 

Even though it was dark, Kevin could feel Andrew’s presence move closer to him.

“It’s just a bed,” He repeated before he pushed Kevin down onto it. 

Kevin went easy, wrapping himself in the covers and making sure his fox blanket was tucked around his head like it was every night. It was childish, but he liked to think it was good for keeping away the nightmares. It didn’t always work, though.

Andrew dropped onto the floor by Kevin’s head and leaned his back against the side of the bed. 

“What are you doing?” Kevin asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion even if Andrew couldn’t see his face.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Andrew asked. 

Kevin sighed.

“You need your sleep, too, ‘Drew.”

The nickname wasn’t new and was only reserved for soft moments such as this one. If Neil or Kevin ever called him it with someone else in the room, he’d never forgive them. Nicknames were just as rare as smiles between the three of them, but they carried weight.Andrew and Kevin and Neil didn’t have a lot of things, but they had _‘Drew_ and _Kev_ and _Abram._

“I can sleep right here. Floor’s nice and comfortable.” 

“I’m okay,” Kevin tried, “I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah?” Andrew snorted, “Well, I don’t believe you.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Kevin replied. 

“Go to sleep, idiot.”

Kevin sighed again and huddled himself further into his cocoon of blankets. He paused for a moment and muttered, “You want a blanket?”

Andrew scoffed, “No.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Night, ‘Drew,” He yawned. 

He didn’t get a reply.

Kevin didn’t know how long he’d slept, but he knew the moment his eyes snapped open, it hadn’t been long enough. 

He was going to puke.

He got out of bed so fast that he nearly kneed Andrew in the back of the head. 

Andrew woke up instantly but Kevin was already sliding across the bathroom floor and throwing up into the toilet. 

_Neil had been- He was-_

Kevin’s eyes started to water with the force of his heaves.

Andrew was in the doorway in an instant, Neil not far behind him. 

Kevin allowed himself to hate the fact that they both wake up so easily. 

He can’t even have a panic attack in peace, for fucks sake.

His nightmare had been new and the thought of it made Kevin throw up again. 

He’d been- He’d been on top of Neil, pinning one arm to his side and making sure he couldn’t kick out with his legs. Jean had been kneeling on the joint of Neil’s left arm to make sure he wouldn’t move. Riko had been- 

Kevin dry heaved so violently that blood came up. 

Riko had stomped on Neil’s hand. 

Neil had been crying, screaming, pleading. 

Kevin had held him down. _Kevin had held him down._

Kevin threw up nothing _but_ blood this time. 

“Oh, Kev,” It was quiet and soft and Kevin was pretty sure it was Neil but he couldn’t hear anything over the ringing of Riko’s awful laugh in his ear. 

“I’m sorry,” He was saying suddenly, crying and heaving and broken. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” At this point he wasn’t even sure what he was apologizing for. 

For waking them up? For being a fucking mess? For hurting Neil in his dreams? For almost killing himself? For nearly knocking Andrew out as he got off the bed? 

What did he have to be sorry for?

He thinks, _So many fucking things._

He thinks, _too many fucking things._

He thinks, _you should be better._

He thinks, _I never will be._

He was shaking as he finally leaned away from the porcelain bowl. 

He stared at the ceiling as he dropped onto his back. The cold tile chilled him to the bone and he didn’t think he could stop shaking even if he wanted to. 

He deserved this. He deserved to throw up blood and lay here and be cold. He deserved the ache in his back that would follow tomorrow. 

It was a dream and Kevin could clearly see that the real Neil was okay, but it didn’t matter. It didn’t fucking matter. 

He'd hurt Neil.

He’d _helped_ hurt Neil. 

He’d followed Riko’s order to hold him down and he’d watched as Riko ruined Neil's hand. He’d watched and he did nothing because he was so fucking _small_ compared to Riko. 

He was Number Two. He was Riko’s. He'd do anything he'd ask.

Kevin shuddered so violently that he felt his heart stop beating for one blissful moment. 

Last time he’d laid here, he’d been dying. He should’ve never gotten up. 

Neil’s head appeared in his eye line and Kevin flinched away from the blue eyes and red hair. He looked so much like his father just then and Kevin- Kevin hated it. 

He hated that he had to remind himself sometimes that Neil wasn’t Nathan. He hated that he could still sometimes see that man’s dismembered body when he looked at Neil. 

“I’m gonna get you to sit up, Kev,” Nathaniel- No, _Neil_ , said softly, “Is that okay?” 

It wasn’t but Kevin was- he was hollow. He was filled with so much hatred for himself and for Riko and the Ravens and Nathan Wesninski. He didn’t want to taint Neil with any of it. 

Hate was not to be associated with Neil Josten. But it was, it fucking _was_ , and Kevin felt so much guilt.

“Yeah,” He said, despite himself. He didn’t want to stain Neil with his hatred but he felt the longing for his warm hands on his skin so deeply and profoundly that it nearly knocked the breath out of Kevin’s chest. 

Neil crouched down and used one hand to steady himself on the ground. The other grasped Kevin’s shoulder and pulled him up just enough for Neil to slip into the small space behind him. 

Neil leaned against the side of the tub and pulled Kevin back to lay on his front. 

He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be comforted or held by Neil fucking Josten. He didn’t deserve the blank yet worried look Andrew cast on them.

Neil’s hand came up to his hair and paused a moment before it made contact, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Kevin confirmed because he couldn’t help himself. He didn’t deserve it at all, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to want it.

Neil’s arm wrapped around his middle and his palm rested gently on Kevin’s chest as his other hand carded softly through his hair over and over and over. 

Andrew walked the few steps towards them and sank down between where they were sprawled and the wall. He curled in on himself tightly and Kevin tried to keep his eyes off him. 

His chest was still heaving with the effort to bring air into his lungs. 

Neil was counting softly in his ear to try and help him get it under control but- but it wasn’t working. Kevin didn’t- fuck- 

He’s crying before he can stop it and he’s curling into Neil and wetting his shirt with his tears. 

Everything was so fucking horrible and sad. 

He didn’t think he’d ever survive without them. 

It took minutes or maybe hours but Kevin finally stopped crying. Neither Neil nor Andrew had moved an inch. 

He wanted to tell them about the dream, wanted them to understand that- fuck, he didn’t even know what he wanted from them anymore. He didn’t know what he wanted at _all_ anymore. 

He thinks, _I want to die._

He thinks, _I want to lay my head in Andrew’s lap._

He thinks, _I want to stay on this bathroom floor with Neil forever._

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but it got lost on its way up his throat. He tried to find it again but his thoughts were moving too slow to comprehend anything at the moment. He didn’t have enough energy to move, let alone recite the exact reason why he was holding back tears.

He felt like such a coward sitting there, not being strong enough to face his own demons. 

He was so fucking mad suddenly it felt like his insides were on fire. He wanted to fucking kill anyone who’d ever done anything wrong to him, make them feel exactly how he felt moment’s ago. He wanted to break them down mentally and emotionally and physically until there was nothing but bones and veins left of their useless bodies. 

The shuddering breath he let out was loud and seemed to echo off the bathroom walls. 

Against his will, his eyes searched the corners of the room for stray white pills that could’ve gotten lost in the clean up process. 

He thinks, _you should do it again._

He thinks, _you could succeed this time._

Suddenly, there’s a hand in front of his eyes and a hand hovering over his arm and Kevin can see nothing else besides golden eyes and blonde hair and purple knuckles and brown freckles and pink cheeks and Andrew, Andrew, _Andrew._

“Stop,” Was all he said but Kevin felt the word echo down to his very core, his fucking soul. 

Stop. 

_Stop._

He flicked his eyes to the hand over his arm and nodded once. He leaned back against Neil once again and closed his eyes, waiting to feel the rough palm against the skin of his arm. 

The contact was minimal and light but Kevin felt it with every fiber of his being and he couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to try. 

Kevin Day wasn’t a religious man, but in that moment he prayed to every God he could think of. 

He thinks, no, prays, _Please, let me keep this. Let me keep this._ He wants to keep this- this _thing_ between them so bad he _aches_ with it. 

He would do anything to keep Andrew’s hand on him and Neil’s arms around him. He would do anything to never leave this spot again, to never feel anything but _them_ ever again. 

It’s an odd feeling, love. If Kevin was even allowed to call it that. Love felt like too strong a word, almost. It felt like not enough of a word, too. 

Maybe Kevin was imagining it, this _bond_ the three of them shared. Maybe it was all in Kevin’s rotted brain. Maybe he’d been damaged so much that he mistook the slightest bit of care for a stupid thing like love. 

Riko had cared for Kevin. Kevin had loved Riko. 

That wasn’t the same thing. 

He sat there and he _felt_ and he _loved_ while they _felt_ and they _c_ _ared._

Kevin wanted to say something like _thank you_ or _you don’t know how much this means to me_ or maybe even something as stupid as _I love you both_ , but nothing sounded right in his brain. The words would leave a sour taste on his tongue if he ever let them leave his mouth. 

So, they sat there, in complete silence as Kevin tried to gather himself enough to hold himself together without their help. 

Who was he kidding, though? He’d always need them in ways that they would never need him. 

Andrew and Neil were a completely different entity from Andrew and Kevin and Neil. They operated differently, said things differently, _loved each other another differently._

Kevin would never be able to squeeze himself into that equation, no matter how much he wanted to. 

He was an open ended math problem with no solution. They weren’t. 

It hurt in such a way that Kevin wished he’d lose the ability to think entirely. 

Kevin had many talents, but overthinking was probably one of the things he was truly amazing at.

“Shut up,” Andrew muttered suddenly and Kevin’s eyes shot open. 

“I didn’t say anything,” He protested weakly. 

“You were thinking.” Andrew replied and Kevin felt Neil’s chest rumbled with a small laugh. 

“You good to get up?” Neil asked. 

Kevin thinks, _No._

He thinks, _please don’t make me get up._

He thinks, _this is where I belong. This is where I belong, with you._

“Yeah,” He said.

Nobody went back to sleep that night and Kevin felt guilty. Neil had taken up post beside Andrew on the floor by Kevin’s bed. 

Kevin’s guilt was going to eat him alive. 

They were all kinds of fucked up, each one of them. What made Kevin so special? What made him deserve to be ‘protected’ like this? 

He didn’t deserve it at all. 

Half of Neil’s life had been spent in abandoned houses with an abusive mother and a murderous father on his tail. He had scars on his body that represented permanent reminders of his trauma, his past life. He had to look at them every day and _remember_. 

Andrew had been abandoned as a child. He’d been hurt by the men in his life that were meant to care for him like a _son._ A _brother._ He’d pulled himself apart to stay with the one true mother figure he’d ever had. He’d slit his wrists and took the abuse because it meant he got to keep Cass. He got to keep the one good thing in his life. 

What was Kevin’s life compared to theirs? 

He never went to bed hungry. He got to wake up and play the sport he loved. He had a brother and a partner to wake up to every morning. He got to be on magazine covers and he got to be interviewed and he got to be _A Son of Exy_ . He got to be _famous._

He hated himself so fiercely in that moment he was surprised his body didn’t implode. 

Imagining the gore staining his sheets and the absolute horror on Neil and Andrew’s faces, if he actually had, was so easy it was almost scary. 

Kevin thought about dying too much. 

It was like his brain refused to let him forget that at any moment he was stepping just a little bit closer to his finish line. 

He could die in this very moment or tomorrow or fifty fucking years from now, but he was _still_ going to die. 

There was no stopping it. 

He tried to put himself in Andrew and Neil’s shoes. 

If he’d walked in and found one of his best friends (if Kevin could even call them that) half out of his mind on drugs, slurring- He- 

Thinking about Andrew or Neil dying made something hot and tight settle in the pit of Kevin’s stomach. 

He thinks, _They’d rot like Riko._

He thinks, _Where would I be buried then?_

He knows that if they ever died, either of them, Kevin wouldn’t be able to get up from that grass. He’d lay there and starve to death as he stared at the freshly overturned dirt of their graves. 

Living without them was impossible in Kevin’s mind. 

And he knows, in his heart of fucking hearts, that they don’t feel the same. 

And it makes him want to die in the most horrendous and painful way he can think of. 

“Promise me something?” He whispers into the dark. 

Andrew’s eyes are as bright as beetles as he flicks his gaze over to Kevin. 

“Anything,” Is his reply. 

Neil’s looking at him too, a silent statue standing guard for a man that he only cares for. 

“Don’t die before me.” 

It’s stupid and silly and completely out of the left field but Kevin wants him, _them,_ to promise him. He _needs_ them to promise. 

“What?” Neil rasps. 

“Promise me you won’t die before me.” 

“Death isn’t- You can’t just-“ Neil tries to argue but Kevin’s _so fucking tired._

“Just- promise me.” 

Andrew sticks his pinky finger up and Kevin’s hand comes out of his blanket to lace their pinkies together. 

“Promise,” Andrew says and Kevin unlatches there pinkies to hold his out to Neil. 

“Pinky promise me, Neil.” 

The red head hesitates, just for a second, still wanting to argue. 

Kevin waits. 

So does Andrew. 

“I don’t like this,” Neil tells them as he wraps his pinky around Kevin’s. 

“Say it,” Kevin says, ignoring him. 

“I promise.” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry i've been awol 
> 
> i got a job and have been way too busy and tired to come on and write :((
> 
> but here's the third chapter!! i know it's short but jean's in this one!!! some (not a lot, very little) progress!!
> 
> luv u and thank u for reading!!!
> 
> p.s. this is not edited as well as it can be but i feel like i owe u guys and it's been sitting in my drafts for a while

Kevin forgot the last time he'd drunk alcohol. 

He stares at the table in front of him and the empty shot glasses that littered it and wondered how pissed Andrew would be if he drank just one. 

He must be staring a little too hard because suddenly someone's smacking the back of his head to gain his attention. 

He flinches away and glares at the person sitting next to him. Neil just smiles and nudges Kevin's glass of diet soda towards him. All he says is, "No." 

"But-" Kevin goes to protest, but then the other person beside him slaps the back of his head too. Kevin growls as he snaps his head towards Andrew. 

Andrew repeats, "No." 

Kevin wants to argue but he knows it'll get him nowhere. When Andrew says no, he means it. Kevin knew that, everyone who knew Andrew well enough knew that. 

Eden's Twilight is busy tonight, busier than usual. The lights are dark and bright all at once and the music is so loud it shakes the floors and the walls. Kevin would appreciate the sensory deprivation if only he was drinking. It's always more fun here when he's drinking. 

The lights would turn to fractals behind his eyes and the music would become dull and his whole body would hum with his drunkenness. He would do anything to feel that right now. 

Ending the night sober is not something Kevin wants to do. 

Maybe Nicky's drunk enough to slip him some under the table. Or maybe he could slip off to the 'bathroom' and end up at the bar instead. 

Roland would pass him a bottle if he asked. Maybe. Kevin's unsure if Roland would risk Andrew's ire. He'd have to ask the other bartender working, then. 

"I said no," Andrew says like he can read Kevin's thoughts. Kevin wouldn't be surprised if he actually could.

"But you guys are watching me," Kevin huffs, like that will make a difference. 

He thinks the last time he's had a drink was before his attempt (apparently, that's what they were calling it now, his _attempt)._ He guesses that's what it was, but to him it just felt like a lapse in judgement. Calling it an attempt was somehow making it official in his eyes. 

He'd tried to end his life. That was the fact of the matter, but Kevin didn't want to face the truth of it. 

"That doesn't mean shit, Kev," Neil responded as he rolled his eyes, "now drink your soda." 

Kevin felt like a child. He was a fucking adult, for fucks sake, if he wanted to drink he could. It was his decision, no one else's. 

"Fuck you guys," Kevin muttered and unwisely reached a hand for one of Andrew's full shot glasses on the table. 

Andrew smacked his hand out of the way, snatching the shot glass and downing it himself. "I'm not going to tell you again." 

Kevin wanted to hit something. Preferably Andrew. In his fucking face. With his fists. 

"Hypocrite." Kevin muttered. 

Andrew huffed a laugh, "I can control my drinking, can you?" 

"Yes," Kevin lied. 

"I don't like liars, Kevin, you know this," Andrew says. 

"I'm not fucking lying."

"You are," Neil added. 

"I'm going the fuck home, let me out," Kevin pushed at Neil's side, but Neil didn't budge. Kevin wasn't expecting him to, really, but it still frustrated him beyond belief when the red head didn't move to let him out of the booth. 

"Drink your soda," Neil said again, like it was going to change anything. 

Kevin was pissed off. Beyond fucking belief. He wanted them to stop telling him what to do. 

"I don't want to drink my fucking soda, Neil. I want to go home," Kevin said, rather harshly.

"Fine," Andrew grumbled, downing the rest of his shots right in Kevin's face, "I'll go find the children. Go pull the car around." 

Andrew slipped out of the booth and Kevin was out a moment later, leaving Neil behind as he headed for the doors. 

The night air was nippy at best and fucking freezing at worst. Kevin was cold but he declined himself the feeling of warmth, letting his arms hang at his sides as he leaned against the wall outside the club to wait for Neil and the car. 

Neil passed him without a glance as he headed towards where Andrew had parked the car, his keys twirling absently around his fingers. 

When he pulled it up to the curb right in front of Kevin, he rolled the passenger window down and just stared. 

"You're acting like a child." He finally said after a moment of silence.

"You're acting like a fucking bitch." 

"Maybe," Neil hummed, "but you're recovering, Kevin. You don't need alcohol to feel better." 

"I know that," Kevin huffed, kicking at a little piece of grass that had grown up between the cracks in the sidewalk, "I just wanted to feel something other than... than _this_ for a minute, fuck." 

Neil nodded like he understood, when Kevin knew he most likely didn't. 

"Get in the car, Kev," Neil finally said, "it's cold." 

Kevin didn't want to get in the car with him, even if it was cold. Maybe he _was_ acting like a child because he would rather walk back to the house than acquiesce to anything Neil wanted. 

Andrew, Nicky, and Aaron appeared suddenly. As the two slid into the backseats, heavily leaning on each other, Andrew stepped close to Kevin, lit cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He seemed to be waiting for something, but whatever it was, Kevin wasn't going to give it to him. 

Kevin sniffed and finally allowed himself to cross his arms, his breathes coming out in little puffs of smoke. Andrew stared at him before he leaned his head back to stare at the half hidden stars and let the smoke roll out of his stupidly pretty mouth. 

How Kevin could hate and love something like Andrew Minyard so wholly, he didn't know. 

"Get in the fucking car, Kevin," Andrew finally said. 

Kevin's feet moved without his permission, getting into the back alongside Aaron. He cursed himself for following Andrew's instructions, but it was a moot point now. 

Kevin watched Andrew take another drag from his cigarette before flicking it into the dark abyss of the alley they'd been standing next to. His fingers were elegant, delicate, almost. His hands altogether were a sight to behold. How he held them, how he curled those pretty fingers around someone's neck all in Kevin's name. How they expertly twirled knives and hurt, all for the ones Andrew loved. A conduit for his anger and his protection. 

Kevin would stare at them unconsciously sometimes, just because he could. 

He can remember the feeling of them wrapping around his neck, can remember the burning feeling in his lungs as Andrew squeezed the life out of him. He can remember looking straight into Andrew's clear eyes and wanting nothing more than for Andrew to do it. To finish the job Riko had started. 

It was then that Kevin realized that he would let Andrew Minyard do absolutely anything to him. 

The ride back to the house was silent except for Nicky's incoherent mumbling and Aaron's even more incoherent replies. 

Kevin was tired, he decided, so he leaned his head against the cold glass of the window and watched the buildings pass, eyes half lidded and unfocused. Everything eventually became too blurry to even understand, but he couldn't care enough to bring himself back. 

Kevin was floating on something other than alcohol for once. He didn't know what it was exactly, but he did know that not everything outside the window felt entirely real. 

How did this become his life? 

How did he end up like this? How did he become number two and someone else's dog? 

He felt sick suddenly, but couldn't be bothered to move. As much as he hated being away from his body, he quite enjoyed the detachment from his feelings all this brought. 

This is what he'd been searching for the first time he'd taken a sip of peach ciroc vodka in he and Riko's little room at the Nest. To feel something other was almost holy to Kevin. Something to be preserved and worshiped. Something to be revered. 

His item of worship had been taken away from him and he wouldn't be subscribing to it's faith anymore, it seemed. 

The car must have stopped because he felt the body heat next to him disappear and the cold breeze of the night fill the warm car. 

He took it upon himself to open his car door, missed it by a couple inches, and tried again. It took him four tries in total to open the door successfully, and when he did, he found Andrew waiting for him with an odd expression on his face. 

"You doing alright, super trooper?" 

"What the fuck is a super trooper?" Kevin asked, slipping out of the car as slowly as possible. The fear of falling on his ass and making a fool of himself was real. He felt detached from his feet, from all his limbs, really. It was odd. Being drunk never felt quite like this, although it was similar. 

"God," Andrew sighed, "I keep forgetting you grew up as a social recluse." 

"What the fuck does that have to do with anything?" Kevin questioned, slamming the car door behind him and trying to steady himself on his feet. Everything seemed to be slightly sideways. He'd drifted too long, and now it was going to take even longer for him to come back. 

"Dude," Andrew muttered, "What the fuck did you take? Didn't you mother ever tell you to not take anything from strangers?" 

"Did yours?" Kevin shot back, regretted it, and then said, "I didn't take anything, I'm just- I'm not entirely sure this all real." 

Andrew stared at him for a grand total of two seconds before he held out an arm for Kevin to take a hold of.

Kevin stared at the arm like it was a bug, possibly a spider or a centipede, one of those scary motherfuckers, before he tentatively reached a hand out to grab a hold. He did stop before his hand could make contact though, and looked back up at Andrew's face for confirmation. Once he'd received a nod from Andrew, Kevin allowed himself to grasp a light hold on Andrew's arm.

Kevin could feel every point of connect between them as they made the journey up the drive and to the front porch of the house. He was a tactile being, no matter how much he loved to deny it. He could remember crawling into Jean's bed after a particularly hard night at the Nest and letting Jean hold him as the both cried for their ruined childhoods and what their sorry lives had become. 

Kevin suddenly missed Jean so heavily that it felt like a piece of heart had been broken off and been swept away to California. He wanted to see Jean so badly, to hold him, to make sure he was in one piece and breathing and fucking alive, living the life he was always meant to. 

He can remember nights when he'd been the one to hold Jean down, been the one inches from the torture Riko was leaving on Jean's skin. He can remember nights where he'd been tasked to take care of Jean after, been the one to watch him shower Riko's fingerprints off his skin. He can remember when he had to be the one to wash Jean because the boy couldn't even move to do it himself. 

Kevin would always be apart of those hurtful memories, would always be seen as something harmful to Jean no matter how much they loved each other. 

That probably was what hurt the worse.

Riko had made him be that for Jean. 

He let go of Andrew, pushed his way into the house and somehow ended up sitting in a locked bathroom. 

The tile must have been cold, but he couldn't feel it. 

He struggled to get his phone out of his pocket, but once he did he clicked his ninth speed dial and waited with baited breath as the call rang in his ear. 

"Kevin?" Jean groggily picked up, his accent heavy with sleep. Kevin had completely forgotten about their time difference. California was three hours ahead. He quickly pulled his phone away to check the time. 

"Jean," Kevin breathed into the phone, his anxiety still pent up in his chest. He was working himself up, he knew, but he couldn't help it. 

"What's," Jean paused to clear his throat, "What's wrong? Why are you calling this late?" 

In truth, Kevin wasn't really sure. To make sure Jean was okay? To make sure that a piece of his heart was still beating, all those miles away? 

"I just-" Kevin's eyes were brimming with tears. Someone was trying picking the bathroom door lock. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay." 

"I'm fine, _mon nounours_ ," Jean replied and Kevin nearly cried at the nickname. 

"Don't call me that, I don't deserve to be called that," Kevin whispered into the phone. He could hear angry arguing on the other side of the bathroom door and drunken slurring, but he tried to ignore it. All that mattered at the moment was Jean and Jean alone. 

"Why not?" Jean's heavily accented voice came through the phone, sleep addled and soft. Caring. Kevin didn't deserve such softness from someone like Jean. 

Jean was all hard lines and hard grey eyes, always serious. This was nothing like the Jean that Kevin had come to know at the Nest. Kevin figured that was Jeremy's doing. 

Kevin wiped at his eyes, trying to get rid of the wretched tears before they could fall, "I hurt you." 

The words came out of his mouth so strained, like he didn't have any more voice to give. It was filled with so much emotion, emotion that Kevin didn't know how to deal with. 

God, he loved Jean. He'd loved Jean since he was eleven and frail and learning that he was never going to be enough for Riko. 

"Riko hurt me," Jean clarified, voice deep and true. He said it so plainly, like he was stating fact. 

"But I helped. I held your wrists and I held the knife sometimes. Jean, I-" 

" _Mon nounours_ ," Jean started and the tears finally fell from Kevin's glassy green eyes, "Riko. It was Riko and it will always be Riko in my eyes. I don't blame you for what you had to do to survive in that place and I never will. You were the one to pick up the pieces Riko had scattered, you were always the one." 

"It's not that simple," Kevin tried but Jean wouldn't let him. 

"It is and I don't blame you. I never will," Jean said in that same factual voice he'd used before. "You might not believe me now, but you will one day, Kevin. I know you will. Riko's dead but we're not. Do you remember when Neil told us about the deal? Do you remember crawling into the bed with me? Do you remember how careful you were not to hurt me even further, always aware of my wrappings and my wounds? Do you remember crying with me and wiping my tears away? Do you remember telling me that everything was going to be okay?" 

Kevin was sobbing now. Full on, snot-nosed, sobbing. It was embarrassing as much as it was healing. The banging on the door had stopped. 

"I'm sorry, _mon souffle_ ," Kevin whispered. 

"There's nothing to be sorry for." 

Kevin heard Jeremy's soft _Jean?_ through the phone and closed his eyes against his tears. 

"I've gotta go, but I'm always here Kevin. I'll always pick up." 

"I know." Kevin said, and then ended the call. 

He sat there for what felt like hours, until the sun started to rise and he could hear the birds chirping outside the bathroom window. 

He sat there and thought about how he didn't deserve all the people in his life who loved him, who cared for him so deeply. 

When he finally opened the door, he nearly started crying again. 

There, on a pile of blankets dropped hastily to the floor, were four men, two of them sleeping and two of them not. 

God, he didn't deserve any of this. 

"Fucking finally," Neil breathed. He was up out of the pile of blankets in a second, reaching for Kevin's arms and checking his body for any wounds. 

"I was talking to Jean," Kevin muttered, "I wasn't going to-"

"Well," Andrew grumbled, "when you lock yourself in a bathroom like that, someone might start to worry." 

It was Andrew's way of saying that he was the one who was worried that Kevin might try something again. 

Andrew was in his face then, fingers on Kevin's chin and dragging his face down so they were eye to eye, "Don't do that shit again." 

"Okay," Kevin whispered. 

He had the sudden urge to kiss Andrew, or maybe Andrew had the sudden urge to kiss him. He wasn't sure, but he felt the energy shift between them none-the-less. 

Kevin thinks, _oh._

"Time for bed," Andrew finally mutters once he'd looked his fill, releasing Kevin with the slightest swipe of his thumb on the underside of Kevin's bottom lip. 

"Okay," Kevin whispers again, staring after Andrew's retreating form. 

Neil's hand is still wrapped around Kevin's arm, so he tugs gently on it to get his attention, "Come on." 

"What do you mean?" Kevin asks stupidly, like he doesn't get what all this is implying. 

"You're sleeping in our room," Neil rolls his eyes, "steal some of their blankets and lets go." 

"I can sleep in Aaron's room, you guys don't have to-" 

"Shut up and come on before Andrew changes his mind." 

Kevin stared at Neil, unbelieving. He felt raw in that way he always did after he'd talked about his feelings. Sleeping in a bed in an empty room all by himself did not sound appealing at all. 

Neil had a soft smile on his face as he stepped into Kevin's space, hand still on Kevin's arm. He pulled the sleeve of his shirt over his hand and wiped messily as Kevin's red cheeks, "It's okay, Kev," he said, hand coming down to wrap fingers around Kevin's chin and rub at his jawline, "You're okay." 

Kevin's eyes started to water again as they just stared at each other. Neil's eyes felt like they were ripping Kevin's layers apart piece by piece until he could see Kevin for who he truly was. 

Being seen was something Kevin hated. Being seen meant being known, and when you were known by someone, they could hurt you. 

Kevin realized that being hurt by someone like Neil Josten didn't sound as bad as it should have. 

Neil's hand slid down Kevin's arm to wrap their hands together and Kevin took it for what it was. 

He leaned down and took some blankets from the pile on the floor, carefully stepping over both Nicky and Aaron so they could make it to the stairs. 

"Took you idiots long enough, fuck," Andrew said from under the covers, nothing but his eyes and his hair sticking out. Kevin wanted to smile but he felt like if he did he would never be able to stop. 

Neil hadn't let go of his hand. 

Andrew either didn't notice or he didn't care enough to comment on it. 

"Kevin couldn't figure out which blankets he wanted," Neil smiled, leading Kevin over to the bed. 

"Always so picky," Andrew rolled his eyes, lifting the blanket up with one hand so Neil could slide in. 

Kevin felt Neil let go of his hand as he dropped onto the bed beside Andrew. 

It felt like Kevin's only tether to his strength had been severed. Like he'd been stranded at sea with nothing but a couple of blankets to keep him alive and afloat. 

It was silent as Kevin just stood there, stupidly watching Neil get himself situated. 

"Are you going to fucking lay down or do I have to get up and make the blankets all nice for you?" Andrew huffed in annoyance, eyes blinking tiredly up at Kevin. 

His words unfolded something in Kevin who scoffed in reply, "I'm not that much of a princess." 

"No," Neil muttered, half asleep already, "you're a queen, remember?" 

"That joke hasn't been funny for the last six months." 

"That's what you think."

Kevin haphazardly dropped one of the blankets on the floor, kicking it around with his boots to make it more even. 

"Shut the light off, will you?" Andrew asked as he shuffled closer to where Neil was laid close to the edge of the bed. Kevin tried to avert his eyes as Andrew sleepily wrapped an arm around Neil's stomach and pulled him back into his chest, but he couldn't stop himself from looking. When Andrew pressed a soft kiss to the back of Neil's neck and Neil hummed a soft sound of contentment, Kevin felt his insides start to swirl around. 

He flicked the light off quickly after that, closing the curtains to make sure that the room was nice and dark. He stumbled his way back to his makeshift bed, heavily dropping himself to the ground and pulling his boots off. 

He flung them somewhere to his left before he laid himself down, tucking himself underneath the two extra blankets he's acquired. 

He doesn't know exactly how much time passes before Neil's hand appears over the side of the bed, but Kevin does know what it means. 

He reaches out hesitantly, fingers touching Neil's palm with as much care as he can manage. 

Neil's hands are different than Andrew's in every way. They're scarred and calloused and rough. They carry the weight of Neil's abuse and his years of being on the run. They carry Neil's experience. They hold Kevin's spine. 

Kevin rearranges his blanket's as quickly as possible so he can make a some kind of makeshift pillow. He props his head up high enough, now, and brings Neil's hand to his hair. 

Kevin lets go of the hand with a small press of his fingers to indicate that that's where he wants them. 

Neil's hand starts moving slowly, grazing through Kevin's hair and pulling it lightly. 

It feels so foreign, so unlike anything Kevin has felt in fucking years. It hurts his chest a bit, but he can't deny himself this one little thing. It dark in the room and in the darkness he feels like he'd not in his body, not fully anyways. Anything can happen in the dark, when the light of day and things like exposure and being seen aren't around to ruin the party. 

He falls asleep like that, with Neil's hand pushing through his hair and his face pressed into the blankets. 

It's fucking nice. Kevin thinks he deserves this little bit of caring, even if he doesn't deserve anything else. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long-ish chapter just 4 u bc the last one was so short!! 
> 
> nsfw content also bc andrew n neil r in love and that is IMPORTANT ! (ok honest 2 god or whatever i did not mean to write sex but like, it happened and i regret nothing)
> 
> also this is in andrew's pov bc i felt like i needed to address some things from another character's point of view- kev will b back next chapter (or it might b neil... i might need 2 address a few things w him as well,,,, we'll see)
> 
> rq, i do want 2 talk abt how this fic comes off kandrew heavy, bc it is i wont lie, but i didn't intend for it to be that way :/ i mean im not complaining bc some of y'all r sleepin on kandrew but that is not the point- moving on- i kno that   
> this isn't kevineil heavy like i want it 2 be (this will most likely be the reason why there will b a neil pov chapter (also kevineil is canon literally i- "what do you see" "you" bro shut up and kiss already)) but listen-
> 
> in this fic, kev is mentally stuck in evermore & in his memories there, which includes the shared trauma with both neil (nathaniel, at the time) and riko. it's gonna take a hot minute 4 kev to realize that while neil is apart of his past, he is also apart of kev's future, just like andrew is... kev does love neil, he just wont say it out loud bc all 3 of these boys see their emotions and b like "what's this? oh? this belongs in the TRASH"
> 
> and on that note, andrew has feelings in this surprise LMFAO
> 
> does he talk abt a word that starts with M and ends in ARRIAGE- he just fuckin MIGHT 
> 
> nora said in her extra content that neil & drew never say i love u OR get married which is FAKE but go off i guess 
> 
> (dark nora drop their wedding vows pls im begging yo-)
> 
> also wholesome mom and son content, mama bee here 2 say andrew's day (did i give betsy a shelter dog that andrew helped her adopt? u bet ur ass i did bc andrew loves animals and is amazing w them and that's on what? . )
> 
> trigger warnings apply for talk of aaron's past drug abuse, talk abt kev's attempt, andrew's past abuse + his past w aaron and tilda + his past in general (the d word was dropped), sexual content, (small-ish) panic attacks etc. etc. 
> 
> as always, be safe u guys!! luv u

All he can remember thinking about as he shoved his fingers down Kevin's throat was Aaron. 

Andrew used to be seventeen and scared, scared that his brother was throwing his life away, scared that his brother was _dying_ right before his eyes. 

Killing Tilda became the only option, there was no 'if'. Andrew had to kill her to save his brother, deal or not. Andrew could have died in that car but it didn't matter because he brother would be _free_ and that was all that mattered to Andrew. 

Sitting there in the bathroom after they'd found Kevin, Andrew had tried to think about all the things he'd done wrong in the past year. All the things he'd denied Kevin just for the sake of denying him, all the things he'd said to Kevin out of anger and spite. 

Andrew didn't believe in regret, but he did know that he wouldn't be able to live with himself if Kevin had died that day. 

Going to Abby's wasn't what he wanted, but he did it anyways because somewhere in his brain he knew it would be the best thing for Kevin. That didn't stop him from wanting to tuck Kevin into his bed at the dorms and take care of him there because that was their fucking _home_ and Kevin deserved to be home. 

Neil had cried and Andrew hadn't said anything. Andrew had lost his ability to cry somewhere around nine years old when Carlos, his foster father at the time, had told him how pretty he looked when he did. 

It wasn't until four years later, with his head pushed into his star wars pillow and Drake on top of him, that Andrew lost his ability to feel. 

Staring at Kevin, on that bed, shaking and crying and saying _i'm sorry i'm sorry i'm sorry_ over and over and _over_ nearly ripped Andrew in half. 

It took nine minutes before he had to step outside. He smoked eleven cigarettes, one after the other, and it took seven of them before he could get his eyes to stop watering. 

In the weeks after the attempt, it somehow became an unspoken rule between he and Neil that Kevin was never to be left alone. 

He- Okay, listen, it's not like he _didn't_ trust Kevin, it was just that when Andrew wasn't looking directly at him or couldn't feel Kevin just a few paces behind him, he began to panic. Full-blown, heart in your ass, "my lungs have stopped working" absolute _panic._

It took several rather long therapy sessions and one or two _"I know something you don't know"_ looks from Bee before it clicked. 

He went for a very long drive after that session. He didn't realize he'd smoked nearly a whole pack of cigarettes until he went for one and there was none left. 

He stopped at a gas station and there, mixing a red and blue slushie together, was a couple. They stood there as they held hands and drank out of the same drink with two straws, just _existing_ in some tiny gas station miles away from Palmetto and Kevin and Neil. 

Andrew wondered if he and Neil could ever exist like that in a place like this. He wondered if they could ever just _be_ without a care or thought. 

He wanted that, he wasn't afraid to admit that to himself now. He was just afraid to add _and Kevin_ to the end of the thought. 

When he returned home that night, he dropped himself into a bean bag beside a sleeping Neil and stared. 

Neil awake was a sight to behold, but Neil sleeping? God, Andrew didn't know how to put it in words. 

His scars were softer looking and his curly mess of hair was silvery in the moonlight that poked through the halfway closed blinds. The faded lights from the TV shadowed him in colors Andrew didn't know how to describe, but it made him look ethereal. It made him look beautiful. 

Andrew couldn't stop staring even if he wanted to. 

Neil stirred and Andrew wanted to shift his eyes away but decided to say _fuck it_. Who cares if he stared at Neil? He was Andrew's boyfriend, Andrew's _really attractive_ boyfriend. He could stare if he wanted. 

"Staring," Neil murmured cheekily, shifting easily to his side so he could face Andrew. He'd squished one side of his face up on the material of the bean bag and looked up at Andrew with shadowed worry in his eyes. 

Andrew had forgotten how long he'd been gone. 

"Staring," Andrew shot back after a minute of silence, running his eyes over Neil's face before he lost his nerve and gave in. He leaned forward slowly enough so that if Neil wanted to push him away, he could. 

It took Andrew a while before he believed _"it's always a yes with you."_ It took Andrew an even longer while before he trusted _himself_ enough to trust Neil would say no when it mattered. 

Neil met him halfway, just as eager to press his soft lips against Andrew's as Andrew was. 

They came together three separate times, one right after the other, all puckered pink lips and no tongue or teeth. It screamed how comfortable they were with each other and how domestic they were, but Andrew didn't mind. He'd gotten over the part of his brain that told him that those feelings were ones to be feared, that intimacy like this wasn't meant for someone like him. He deserved to be loved by someone as wonderful as Neil Josten, and no ghost in Andrew's past was going to take that thought away from him. 

He worked hard to be able to say that, and _god dammit_ he was going to be proud of himself for it.

Neil's hand snaked out of his blanket to press it's warm palm to Andrew's cheek and keep his head in place. Neil leaned his forehead against Andrew's and hummed softly in contentment as he closed his eyes and Andrew's chest fucking swelled with something bright that started with the letter L. 

Sometimes, in moments like these, when Neil is calm and soft and gentle, Andrew thinks he could say it. He thinks he could just blurt it out and he thinks Neil would just smile at him and mutter an, _"I know, and I love you, too,"_ and everything would be right in the world. 

Andrew doesn't say it, though, because he never says it. He doesn't need to say it when he knows that Neil knows. 

Neil knows Andrew loves him and Andrew knows that Neil loves him right back. He knows and _that is enough._

Andrew wishes that Kevin knew, as well. 

"How was your session?" Neil asks when they finally pull away from one another. Andrew scoots his bean bag closer to Neil's and leans his elbow on the space of fabric behind Neil's head. It's a clear invitation that Neil takes full advantage of, twisting himself and his blanket (it's one of the many fox printed blankets that Nicky had gifted the team last year for Christmas) around until he's comfortable. 

Andrew rests his head in his palm and relishes in the feel of Neil's head being pressed right up underneath his chin. If Andrew tilted his head down a little, he could kiss Neil's head.

Andrew tilts his head down and kisses the top of Neil's head and his heart beats harder at the pleased noise Neil makes when he does it. 

God, Andrew loves him. He loves him and he wouldn't change it for the world. 

Neil makes him calm the way cigarettes do, the way reading does. He makes Andrew absolutely _docile_ and _soft_ and _tender_ in a way that Andrew never thought he could be and fuck if Andrew wasn't a junkie himself. 

Sometimes, he thinks he could marry Neil Josten. He thinks he could crawl into bed next to him late in the night and wordlessly press a silver ring into Neil's palms and Neil would just know. He'd know exactly what Andrew was trying to say without Andrew actually having to say it, just like he always does, and he'd smile and slip the ring on his finger silently before grabbing Andrew's face in his hands and kissing the life out of him. 

Andrew always thought marriage was useless, and he still does. He doesn't need a piece of paper to tell him that he belongs to Neil. He doesn't need a ring to prove it, either. He knows and Neil knows and the only people who matter in their lives know so why does every one else need to know? 

Here, in this quiet moment as Andrew presses his face further into Neil's hair and closes his eyes as just _feels_ , is something he's been chasing his entire life. 

It took him years and years to realize that this is something he's allowed to have, something he's allowed to want, and he realizes with a fierce thought that he'd do anything to keep these moments of theirs private. 

This space, this minute, is only for their eyes to see and for their minds to remember. It's only for them and Andrew plans to keep it that way. 

So, Andrew thinks he could marry Neil Josten, if that meant that only the two of them would know. 

"It was a session," Andrew finally settles on, face still buried in Neil's hair and eyes still closed. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to breathe, because if he did, then he'd have a lungful of nothing but Neil and Andrew thinks that if that happened then he'd never be able to breathe regular air again. 

"Did you figure it out on your drive?" Neil asks, quietly, fingers absently coming up to trace lines and patterns over the exposed skin of Andrew's abdomen. His shirt had ridden up when he'd slouched in the bean bag. Andrew didn't want Neil to stop. 

Andrew reaches down with his free hand and pulls his shirt up a little to give Neil more access. Neil hums happily at being given more space to explore and Andrew tries to keep his mind on the conversation. He's halfway asleep at this point and if Neil keeps it up, Andrew will be out in under five minutes. 

"I did," Andrew responds and it's quiet as Neil thinks of a reply, fingertips looping invisible lines across the waistband of Andrew's jeans.

"What do you need?" Neil finally settles on, fingers stopping to grasp onto his hip and head tilting up to press his face into Andrew's neck. 

Andrew makes a pleased sound as he brings his free hand up to tug Neil closer. 

"Time," Andrew thinks, _time to figure out what it all means, time to figure out if you feel the same, time to figure out whether I'm willing to share this, share you or not._

Neil doesn't say anything, just presses a feather light kiss to the underside of Andrew's jaw. Andrew sighs blissfully. 

_This_ , this right here is what he dreams about. 

"How much of it?" Neil asks eventually after a few minutes of silence. 

"A lot," Andrew says back, "now stop asking questions and kiss me." 

Neil tries to drop his smile before he's in Andrew's line of sight but he fails terribly. Andrew rolls his eyes and huffs at him to pretend his annoyed with the idiot, but they both know it's not true. 

Neil's lips against his are soft and sleepy and when Andrew runs his tongue along the line of Neil's bottom lip, Neil happily opens his mouth for him. Their tongues touch and push and _dance_ in such a way that Andrew can't help the little noises he starts to make. It's nowhere near sexual, but if Neil keeps rubbing his thumb across Andrew's hipbone like _that_ \- 

Neil's hand slides from Andrew's hip to the front of his pants. He tugs lightly at Andrew's belt buckle in question and Andrew tries to hide the little shaky sound he makes by pushing his tongue further into Neil's mouth. 

"Yeah?" Neil pulls away to ask before his lips are back on Andrew's again. The way Neil is basically fucking his mouth with his tongue has Andrew half hard already. 

"Yes or no?" Andrew says instead of answering, pulling back from Neil's lips to look him in his stupidly beautiful blue eyes. 

"I wouldn't have put my hand on your dick if I didn't want to, dummy," Neil smiles, soft and small, eyes never leaving Andrew's. 

In response, Andrew leans up and grabs with both hands at Neil's hips. The movement is so fast and expertly done that Neil nearly yelps in surprise, but stops himself before he can. 

Andrew's halfway reclined in the bean bag, hands on Neil's thighs where they're spread over Andrew's crotch. 

Andrew bites the inside of his cheek and he playfully pushes his fingers up under the fabric of Neil's shorts. Before he can even think about it, his fingers are finding the exact spots he'd left marks on with his mouth just days before. 

Andrew had stared at them after they were done, had memorized how pretty Neil looked splayed out on his bed with his thighs spread and purple-pink bruises littering his inner thighs. He'd asked before he left them. He could still hear Neil's gasped, "yes, Andrew, always yes," and could still feel his nails scratching at his shoulders and through his hair. 

Neil shivered when Andrew's fingertips brushed over the spots, his eyes slipping closed as he slowly let his head fall back and softly rolled his hips forward. 

"Yes?" Neil asked again once he'd let Andrew have his fill, his eyes now open and dark. 

"Be specific," Andrew replied, hands moving further up Neil's thighs. Neil involuntarily shivered when Andrew rubbed at spot where his leg met his hip. Andrew loved to hear Neil say what he wanted, loved to hear the broken way he'd tell Andrew everything he wanted to do Andrew and everything he wanted Andrew to do to him. 

"I want..." Neil swallowed as he thought, Andrew's hand finally giving him a second to breathe as they wrapped around his hip bones and stayed there. 

When Neil opened his mouth to answer, Andrew used his hands to angle Neil's hips and roll them forward. The sound Neil made was so hot, so _dirty_ and _attractive_ that Andrew had to instantly make himself forget it before he started replaying it over and over in his mind. 

"Can we fuck?" Neil breathed out, palms reaching up under Andrew's shirt so they could explore more. Just months ago, three of them before Kevin's attempt, Andrew had given Neil the green light. He'd given him his own, "it's a yes until I say no," and Andrew has yet to say no. 

He'd yet to flinch when Neil's hand pressed into his back randomly. He yet to pull away when he felt Neil's arms wrap around his waist unexpectedly. 

It was amazing really, being able to feel Neil all the time. He couldn't keep his hands to himself and he didn't want to, hadn't wanted to since the first time he'd touched the iron scar on Neil's shoulder, had pressed his thumb into the puckered bullet scar. 

He knew that he'd never tell Neil no, ever again, because there wasn't a moment in Andrew's life where he didn't want to be touching Neil Josten. 

Sure, he'd have bad days where the yeses would turn to nos, but Neil could live with that. Even now, Neil still asked when he knew that he didn't have to. It made Andrew's heart swell. 

"Only if you ask nicely," Andrew replied playfully, gripping Neil's hips so he could control the slow roll of them against his own. The sweet friction that he gained from that one movement had Andrew biting his lip and Neil making a heavenly sound that he had to swallow so he wouldn't wake Kevin up in the other room. 

"Shut up," Neil huffed, dropping his upper body onto Andrew's and intentionally leaving the customary sliver of space between them, just like he always did. 

Andrew huffed back at Neil and pulled his hands out of Neil's shorts to press them into Neil's back. Neil made a needy sound of protest at the loss of touch but it instantly changed into a soft sound when Andrew pushed at him and their bodies finally met. 

Andrew could feel every point that his body was connected to Neil's, could feel every wanting breath Neil took. It was a good feeling, an amazing one. Andrew felt like he was going to vibrate right out of his skin if Neil didn't kiss or touch him soon. 

"That's not asking nicely," Andrew's voice came out strained the last half of the sentence when Neil ground his hips particularly hard into Andrew's. His eyes found Neil's mischievous ones and yeah, Andrew was tired, but he would never be tired enough to deny himself this. 

For Neil open and wanting on top of him, thighs spread and mouth spit slicked and puffy, shorts pushed up to expose the pale expanse of skin Andrew loved to press open mouth kisses to when he had the chance. 

Andrew didn't know if he could handle it. 

"Fuck me?" Neil asked again and Andrew finally gave in when Neil rolled his hips again, punching noises from both of them. 

The way they sounded together was something Andrew could never forget, something he never _wanted_ to forget. This was theirs and it always would be. Theirs for them to _hear_ and _see_ and _feel_. 

Theirs. Andrew's. Neil's. 

Andrew didn't know if he could share this with anyone else, didn't know if he could ever be this open and wanting and needing with another person. He didn't know if Neil could, either.

"Go get the lube," Andrew ordered, voice rough from his arousal and his thoughts. 

Neil was gone for a minute, the bedroom door left ajar as he went in search of the lube Andrew kept shoved safely into a pair of black socks in the bottom drawer of the dresser.

Andrew allowed himself only a moment to think it, a moment to fantasize and wonder. 

Kevin walking out of the bedroom to find Neil splayed on his back, to find Andrew moving in between his legs, to find them both hard and wanting all for each other. Kevin watching wide eyed and open mouthed, Andrew watching him be wide eyed and open mouthed, Neil watching them both before reaching a hand out to Kevin in invitation. 

Andrew could almost see it, the way Kevin would war with himself before he tentatively took Neil's hand. He could see the way Kevin and Neil's tongues would slide together all hot and slow after an exchanged yes or no. He could see the way they would pant into each others mouths as he still pumped in and out of Neil, could see Neil's hands scrambling at the waistline of Kevin's sweatpants to push them down, down, down- He could hear the absolute groan of pure ecstasy Neil would make when Kevin finally slid between Neil's open and spit slicked lips- 

Neil returned and Andrew had to shake himself back into awareness, his dick straining near painful against the zipper of his jeans. He knew that if the lights were on then Neil would be able to see the little wet spot that had started to form on the black material. 

Andrew wondered if he was allowed to be embarrassed about something no one else had the knowledge of. 

"How do you want me?" Neil asked as tossed the lube at Andrew's chest. 

The handful of times they'd actually done this, Andrew had figured some things out. 

He liked being able to see Neil's face, liked when he pressed their foreheads together so they could pant hotly into each others mouths, liked the feel of Neil's muscled legs tightening around him the moment his body tensed and he came all over both of their stomachs. 

He liked fingering Neil this way too, with him on his back and Andrew on his stomach between his legs. He liked that he could look up at Neil at any moment and narrow his world down to Neil and just Neil. Nothing else mattered in those span of minutes between getting Neil ready and Andrew finally, _finally_ pushing into him. 

Andrew thought about it, thought about how he might have Neil on his knees with his face and chest pressed into the carpet with Andrew's hands clasped around his hips in a steady grip that never wavered as he fucked Neil into the floor. He could imagine it, the perfect arch of Neil's back and the swell of his ass, skin flushed and sweaty, the high keening sounds he'd try to bury into the carpet. 

He then thought about Neil on his back for him, legs wrapped around his shoulders and hands in his hair as he prepped him, mouth on Neil's dick and fingers in his ass. 

He doesn't know why, but suddenly it's Kevin's legs wrapped around his shoulders and Kevin's hands in his hair and Andrew's fingers in Kevin. 

God, Kevin would sound so sweet and look so pretty flushed and sweaty and panting all for Andrew. 

He swallowed near audibly, avoiding Neil's eyes, and wrapped a hand around Neil's ankle to pull at him. 

Neil stepped forward and dropped to his knees when Andrew tapped the back of his leg. 

"Shirt off, on your back," Andrew instructed, and Neil complied. He threw his shirt somewhere to the right of them and Andrew debated absently whether it landed behind the couch or not. 

When Neil was finally on his back, Andrew gave it his all. 

He refused to let his lips leave Neil's until the absolute last second. He only let him go when Andrew finally felt like his lungs were going to pop inside his chest. 

Neil's half hard cock instantly filled out when Andrew shucked his pants off and began to leave a sloppy trail of marks and kisses down his body. 

The sound Neil was making were half heard half dulled by the hand Neil had covered his mouth with. 

When all this had started, Neil had never been vocal. He'd cum with a soft sigh or a shuddering breath. Then, when Andrew started to let Neil touch him, Neil started to make more noise. He started to let go the more experience they gained with each other and now Andrew tried to pull a new sound out of him every time they did this. 

"A-Andrew," Neil hiccuped, chest splotched with red. The moment Andrew licked a strip up the underside of Neil's cock, they both knew he wouldn't last long. 

"Hurry," Neil muttered, urgent. He didn't want to cum until he had Andrew's dick in him, Andrew knew. Neil liked it best that way. 

"Be patient," Andrew scolded, smacking lightly at Neil's inner thigh and watching in fascination as Neil's legs started to shake where they were placed over Andrew's shoulders. 

When Andrew finally got a couple fingers in Neil, he knew that he wouldn't last at all once he was inside him. 

Despite this, he went as slow as possible, drawing out whines and groans and bitten off sighs of pleasure until Neil was thoroughly shaking, barely able to speak. 

When Andrew pulled his fingers out, Neil's legs instinctively wrapped themselves tighter around Andrew's shoulders to keep him there. Andrew smothered his smile in Neil's inner thigh as he rubbed the outside of them, pressing kisses and biting and reveling in the way they shook around him. 

_I did this,_ he thought absently as he lightly trailed his fingers over the mark he'd just sucked in the crease on Neil's leg. He was oddly proud of himself when Neil shivered with it. 

"O-okay," Neil finally whispered, "up, get up, c-come on, 'Drew. Get in me." 

Andrew pressed one last lingering kiss on the head of Neil's dick before he brought himself up and let Neil's legs slide down his shoulders to his hips. 

"Shirt off?" Neil asked and Andrew nodded, letting Neil pull it off him. Neil's hands went to his belt next and he tugged on it as he waited. 

Andrew sighed and rolled his eyes before smacking Neil's hands away to slide the thing off himself.

He managed to push his jeans halfway down his thighs before he felt Neil's heels press into the small of his back to hurry him up. 

"Someone's eager," Andrew commented absently as he slicked himself up with the lube. 

"I-" Neil stopped himself and let out a shaky breath when he felt the head of Andrew's cock nudge at his hole, "I missed you." 

Andrew almost stopped, almost pulled away. It was an old instinct, something he would have done if he'd heard Neil say that a year ago. 

That was before, though. 

"I was only gone for a couple of hours," Came Andrew's strained reply as he finally, finally pushed into Neil. 

The sound Neil let out made Andrew shake. He heaved a breath when he finally bottomed out, closing his eyes and hanging his head and sitting there for a second as Neil pressed small kisses to his face. 

"Doesn't make a difference if it's a couple of minutes or a couple of hours," Neil whispered, "when you're gone, I don't know what to do. I don't know how to exist, A-Andrew, move? Move for me?" 

Neil was slowly moving his own hips, probably without him realizing it. Andrew couldn't ignore his request though, so he pulled out slowly and pushed back in even slower. 

The groan that rolled through Neil's body was guttural and loud behind the hand he'd clamped over his mouth at the start of it. 

"Like that, just like that," Neil nodded frantically as he dropped his hand and fisted it in bean bag next to them, "slow, go slow, just for us." 

Andrew- God, his heart was going to stop. 

Sometimes when Neil talked during sex, it was to plead with Andrew to go faster, harder, to make it rough. Other times, he wanted Andrew to go syrupy slow, to drag it out until every nerve in Neil's body was on fire and alive. Andrew honestly didn't know which way he preferred, he just knew that he loved the feeling right here, the feeling of being inside someone you loved. 

"Fuck," Andrew breathed as he moved his hips again. 

After that, everything became a blur. All Andrew knew was that at some point, Neil's hands found his lower back and urged his hips forward, begging him to go harder. He didn't speed up once, keeping the same pace until Neil was broken apart and nearly crying into his own hands. 

Andrew didn't come until after Neil did. He felt it before Neil even knew what was happening, pressing into his prostate one last time, as hard as he could manage without hurting Neil. 

Neil's whole body tensed around Andrew's. His back arched and his eyes rolled back and he shook all over as his cum splashed over his stomach. Andrew had a hand pressed to the carpet above Neil's head to keep himself upright and Neil wrapped a hand tightly around his wrist to anchor himself so he wouldn't drift too far away. 

Andrew continued to fuck him through it, making his own low, soft sounds when Neil tightened around him. 

He came seconds after Neil, buried inside him deep enough to scar, deep enough to leave a part of himself broken off inside of Neil. 

When it was over, when Neil was cleaned up and Andrew was out of breath, they crawled into bed together. 

They could hear Kevin snoring in the bed across from them. 

Neil's fingers found his under the covers and wrapped their hands together. 

Andrew's body felt syrupy thick and slow, thoroughly worn out and fucking _tired._ His eyes had just started to close when Neil said, "Time, huh?" 

"Can we not talk about this now?" Andrew whispered, sighing as he buried his head further into his and Neil's shared pillow. Their noses brushed against each other. Andrew felt their breathing mix. 

"We don't have to now," Neil muttered, bringing their hands up to press a soft kiss the the back of Andrew's hand, "but don't disappear like that again without texting first, okay?" 

Andrew's eyes snapped open. 

"I wouldn't," Andrew says, voice suddenly firm and his mind wide ass awake. 

"I know," Neil quickly admitted, "but we both thought Kevin wouldn't either." 

That thought sent something simmering and awful down Andrew's spine. He had to swallow the bile rising in his throat. 

"I would never leave you," Andrew says, minutes later when it was too dark to see if Neil was even awake or not. It didn't matter if he was or not, Andrew means it and doesn't care if Neil knows. He knows it's true, and that's what matters. Andrew would never do that, not now and not ever. 

He had too much to live for now. 

"I never thought Kevin would try to either," Neil finally replied and something clicks in Andrew's brain. 

He didn't need much time to have one of his questions answered, it seemed. 

"I don't-" Andrew takes a breath, "I don't think he was trying to leave, I just think he was trying to run." 

Neil snorts, but it's not a laugh, "Downing a bottle of pills is one hell of a way to try and run." 

"Aaron did it for years before I came into the picture. Every one is running away from something in their own way, Neil, you should know that better than anyone. Kevin chose sleeping pills, Matt chose heroin, Aaron chose prescription pain meds," Andrew swallows before he says the next part, "I chose self-harm. We all try in our own ways, some just go further than others." 

Neil's hand tightens on Andrew's, "I could have killed him for what he did, but- but after, after he'd thrown up and we were waiting for Abby to show up, when it was dead silent in the bathroom and his breath was coming out uneven and it was catching in his throat every few seconds- Andrew, I- I have never wanted to _stay_ so bad in my life. I wanted to- to never let him out of my sight again. I wanted to see him through recovery and see him sign to a professional team of his choice. I wanted to see his face when he finally got the call that he was invited to be back on the U.S. National team. I wanted-" 

"I get it," Andrew replied, because he did. He'd thought of it all. He'd thought of every single thing Kevin would never have been able to experience or do if he'd died on their bathroom floor with Andrew and Neil sitting beside him. 

"Do you?" Neil sounded like he was going to start crying, so Andrew let go of his hand and wrapped it around the back of Neil's neck instead. Their foreheads bumped each others as Andrew pulled him closer. 

"I do," Andrew sounded so sincere in that moment that he nearly scared himself with it, "I do because I thought of it all. I thought about how he'd never get to win another championship, I thought about how I'd never be able to piss him off by eating a whole carton of ice cream for dinner, I thought about never hearing his laugh again, I thought about that one picture of the three of us up on the wall at the court and how it would collect dust and be hidden behind other pictures until it disappeared completely." 

Neil sniffed and Andrew's chest tore. He didn't know how to help, how to tell Neil that he understands because he cares about Kevin almost as much as he cares about Neil. 

"The day I got here," Neil said, "the day I moved in and met Matt for the first time, I remember sitting at the window in the dorm and looking up at the sky and telling my mom that one of us had to make it, and that I was going to make sure it was Kevin and not me. I remember not being able to sleep when I didn't know if he was okay or not, I remember the way he handed me my binder after I got back from Evermore that Christmas. I remember his face on the court that day we beat the Ravens. I remember how neither of his hands shook when he clacked his stick with mine and walked out onto Evermore's court with his racket in his left hand and fucking proved that he was the best." 

Neil sniffed again and Andrew's other hand made its way out from under their pillow to wipe at his cheeks. 

"I- He was- He was living the life I was supposed to be living while I was on the run. I was jealous at first because I was a kid who loved Exy knowing that I'd never be able to play it again. He was a kid who loved Exy who got to play it everyday of his life. Collecting his news articles was the only way I stayed sane most days. Andrew, he can't die- He can't die, not when I was the one that was supposed to die first." 

Neil's hand clasped around Andrew's wrists and they both went completely still when Kevin shifted on his mattress. Andrew couldn't see him, but he heard the giant sigh Kevin gave before he smacked his lips and promptly began snoring again. 

They both relaxed again. 

"He's not going to," Andrew mumbled but he didn't know. Maybe they wouldn't be so lucky next time, maybe they wouldn't be fast enough, maybe they'd be too late. 

Sometimes, Kevin got this look in his eye that made Andrew's chest seize and his thoughts come to a shuddering halt. Andrew had seen that exact look too many times in the mirror to not understand what it meant. 

Andrew didn't know if they were enough on their own, he didn't know if they were enough to keep Kevin alive. 

He didn't say this though, he just gripped Neil's neck tighter. 

Neil snorted and shook his head slightly, "You can say that all you want but all it takes is one little slip, one step backwards and we're right back on that bathroom floor again." 

Andrew knew he was right but he didn't want to believe it. 

"You don't think he can recover," It wasn't a question, so Andrew didn't it phrase it as such. It was a statement, a fact. Neil does not think that Kevin has what it takes to get better. 

(If Andrew was being honest with himself, he thought Kevin did have what it takes, but it was in the form of two emotionally stunted twenty somethings currently facing each other on the same bed in a dingy dorm room they all shared with each other) 

"No," Neil shook his head slightly, "I do, I do think he can recover, I just don't think he can do it alone." 

Andrew agreed, so he asked, "What do you want?" 

"We-" Neil breathed for a minute as he thought, "I don't know, Andrew. I want us to be there. I want us to be there and I want us to never leave him alone. I want us to make him stop the drinking for good and fucking talk to him, no matter how much of an asshole he's being. I don't want us to get mad and run off by ourselves when things get difficult. I want us to stay and figure it the fuck out like three functioning adults are supposed to fuckin' do." He ended with a shrug. 

Andrew wondered when it was going to click for Neil like it'd clicked for him. He wondered how long he'd have to wait before Neil realized what he actually wanted. 

Andrew whispers, "I want that, too, you know," and presses a quick kiss to Neil's forehead. 

"Good," Neil huffs, still sniffling but significantly less teary eyed than he had been a few minutes before, "he only listens to you half the time, anyways." 

"Lying is a sin," Andrew automatically remarks. 

"Lying is the most fun a guy can have without taking his clothes off," Neil automatically shoots back, "actually." 

"Remind me to ban you from letting the girls show you music," Andrew huffs quietly as he settles himself down to go to sleep again. 

"Yes?" Neil whispers into the small space between their mouths and Andrew's already nodding before Neil can even get the word out of his mouth. He doesn't know what he's saying yes to, but he knows that he wants whatever it is. 

Neil presses their lips together three times, like earlier, before he flips himself around and pushes his back along Andrew's front. 

In his half asleep state, Andrew instantly drapes an arm over Neil's middle, hand coming up underneath his shirt to press his palm flat against his stomach. He curls his other arm under their pillow and presses his nose into the back of Neil's head, breathing in nothing but Neil, Neil, Neil. 

They fall asleep like that, with Kevin's alarm clock blinking dull red light over the room and faded music from the downstairs dorm leaking through their air vents. 

In his sleep, Andrew shifts closer to Neil and dreams of a home with three cars in the driveway and three Exy bags in the hall closet. He dreams of hot pancakes on a Sunday morning and a backyard with a dog and a patio table set for twelve. 

Andrew doesn't remember his dreams when he wakes up, because when his eyes open Kevin's bed is empty. 

It takes Andrew all of three seconds before he realizes what the fuck that means. 

"Neil," He says, quickly crawling over his sleeping boyfriend to get to his feet, "Neil, get the fuck up." 

"What?" Neil questions groggily, turning to press his face into their pillow and pull their blanket higher up his body. 

"Neil," Andrew's voice is on the border of panic, he can tell because he can hear it, "Neil, he's gone." 

"What?" Neil rubs a this eye as he sits up in bed, turning his head towards Kevin's bed and then to Andrew. 

"What do you mean he's gone?" 

"I woke up and he wasn't in his bed." Andrew's hands are starting to shake. 

Neil looks at the time and yawns as he does so, "Andrew, it's six in the morning. He probably went for a run." 

"Stop it," Andrew mumbled at him as he goes to the bathroom to swing the door open and check. Kevin's not in the shower and there are not signs of- of-, "Stop acting like this is okay, not after last night." 

Neil rolled his eyes and pads over to Andrew to look in the bathroom over his shoulder. 

"Check his toothbrush," Neil suddenly says and Andrew gives him a look. 

"Huh?" 

"Is his toothbrush wet?" 

"I'm not touching his fucking toothbrush, ew." 

"You'll put your mouth on my dick but you won't touch Kevin's toothbrush?" 

"Oh, shut the fuck up." 

Neil slips past Andrew and picks up Kevin's toothbrush, "It's wet, see, feel." 

"No, you fucking weirdo," Andrew dodges Neil's hand when he stretches it out for Andrew. 

Neil just rolls his eyes and plops it back in the holder, next to Andrew's own toothbrush, "He brushed his teeth." 

"Yeah?" Andrew asks, insides starting to catch up to his brain. He feels jittery. He doesn't understand why Neil isn't pulling on his shoes and freaking out with him. 

"Go check for a note," Neil sighs, hand rubbing at his cheek. 

Andrew stares at a spot on the bathroom floor, "He didn't leave a note last time." 

Neil freezes and turns his head to slowly look at Andrew. 

"No, he didn't," Neil agrees. 

It was something they hadn't discussed, but something that itched at both of them none-the-less. 

Andrew figured that the why of it all didn't matter as long as Kevin was alive, but the more that time went on, the more he wanted to know. 

Why had Kevin swallowed all those pills? Why had he decided that that was his only option? Why? _Why?_

Was there something Andrew could have done? Something Neil could have done? Could it have been prevented? Could it have never happened at all if they had just been there? If they had called him earlier? If they had never left in the first place? 

"The kitchen, now, go," Neil ushered him out of the bathroom. 

Andrew doesn't remember the walk from the bathroom to the kitchen, but suddenly he'd looking down at he and Neil's empty coffee mugs on top of a sticky note that read, _'went for a run, made coffee, be back soon'._

Andrew looked at the note, undoubtedly written in Kevin's chicken scratch, and then looked at the pot of coffee not a foot away from it.

"How soon is soon?" Andrew asked himself, or Neil, or no one. He wasn't sure what he was doing anymore. This proved nothing. Kevin was still not here, he was not in the dorm and he was not in Fox Tower and he was not behind Andrew watching TV like he always did on Saturday mornings. 

He was not here. 

And Andrew's body wouldn't let him forget that. 

"Call him if you want," Neil shrugged and reached around Andrew for their coffee mugs, one black and one white, so he could pour them both coffee. 

Andrew had his phone out and was dialing before he even made the conscious decision to do so. 

"What?" Kevin picked up, out of breath. 

His voice crackled on the other side of the phone and Andrew's chest squeezed and squeezed and squeezed. 

He was going to have a heart attack, he was sure of it. He was going to die prematurely from a full blown heart attack all because of Kevin fucking Day and his dumbass running habits. 

"Where are you?" Andrew said but it sounded like a whisper to his ears. 

Neil looked up from their coffee and Andrew put a hand over his face so he wouldn't see the look Neil was giving him. 

"Almost home," Kevin muttered, "stopped to pick up breakfast at that little donut shop that just opened up on Carver. I'm walking down Perimeter now. I'll see you in ten," And then he hung up. 

Andrew kept the phone to his ear long after Kevin stopped talking. He didn't want to move, didn't want to look up and see that fucking look he knew Neil was wearing. 

"Oh, Andrew," Neil said and it took all of Andrew's chest and his strength not to flinch. 

Neil pulled the phone out of his hand and pulled his other hand away from his face. Andrew squeezed his eyes shut and leaned forward so he could drop his head onto Neil's shoulder. 

He let out a very long, very shaky breath. 

"Don't say anything," Andrew said in the space between them and Neil brought a hand to his back to rub soothing circles into it, over his shirt. 

"I wasn't going to," Neil muttered but Andrew knew better. 

"You were thinking it." 

"So?" 

"You were thinking it too loud." 

"I told you he was fine," Neil said instead of what he really wanted to say, instead of what he really wanted to question Andrew about. 

Andrew knew Neil wouldn't ask if Andrew asked him not to, but Andrew didn't know if he wanted that or not. 

Maybe he needed to be questioned, to be cornered and asked all the uncomfortable things he didn't want to admit out loud. Maybe then he'd be able to breathe again. 

They stayed like that until they heard the door knob turn and then they parted, Andrew instantly turning his back to the doorway and picking up his coffee. 

He needed a god damn cigarette, fuck. 

"Hey," Neil greeted but it sounded so fake, so thinly veiled that Andrew almost laughed, "how was the run?" 

"It was okay," Kevin said. Andrew still hadn't looked at him. He didn't know if he could without reaching out to check- to check for scraps or burns or cuts or- or- 

Andrew's knees were starting to shake. He needed to calm down now or he was going to completely lose it in front of them both with no explanation. 

"I was going to wake you up and ask if you wanted to go, too, but I figured it was easier to avoid Andrew's wrath if I let you both sleep," Kevin's laugh was light and fake as fuck, friendly in a way they were never friendly with one another. They knew each other too well to be that kind of friendly. 

Andrew thought of Bee calling their friendship the equivalent of a platonic marriage and nearly snorted into his coffee. 

_If only_ , he thought, _if only it were that easy to define._

"I got the works," Kevin continued, "All of Andrew's favorites. If we have leftovers, I figured we can pass them out to the team. They should be getting up for practice soon." 

"They'll think you're trying to poison them if you give them a donut." Neil said. Andrew heard him flip open the donut box lid. 

Kevin laughed, "Maybe I am." 

"That means you get to take the first bite, then," Neil said and there were a few quiet moments where Andrew could practically imagine the scene playing out behind him. 

Neil holding up the most unhealthy looking donut of the bunch to Kevin's mouth, a smirk on his face while Kevin rolled his eyes and took a large bite out of the thing. 

"See," Kevin swallowed, "not poison." 

Neil hummed around his mouthful of donut as he took his own bite. Andrew still couldn't turn around. 

He didn't want to look. 

He didn't want to see them both in the light of their kitchen in the early hours of the morning, Kevin flushed in basketball shorts and a plain tee and Neil with sleep crusties still in the corners of his eyes and his hair still a wild mess from their romp on the floor the night before. 

Andrew didn't think he would survive it. 

_Domestic,_ was the word that came to his mind and Andrew suddenly had the urge to vomit. 

_Platonic marriage._

"You want one, 'Drew?" Kevin asked and when Andrew didn't move or make a sound, Kevin must have made a face or something because he heard Neil's soft, _"leave it."_

Andrew wanted two cigarettes and to go for a very long drive now. 

He needed to think, he needed to _not_ think at all, he needed to talk to Betsy, he needed a new lighter, he needed to run his hands along Kevin's arms to make sure he hadn't done anything stupid. 

What he was going to do, though, was take the whole box of donuts up to the roof and methodically eat them all while he chainsmoked and felt nothing but the fear of being up so high. 

When he turned, Neil and Kevin were both in the door way, looking at him. He didn't pay them any attention as he snatched up the box and made for the front door. 

"Where you going?" Neil asked him quietly as they followed after him. 

"Away," Andrew answered, stilling walking for the door. He paused as he turned the knob though, he and Neil's conversation from last night coming back to him, "To the roof, I'll come back down when I'm ready." 

"Do you need anything?" Kevin asked and Andrew was so shocked that it was Kevin who asked and not Neil that he just stared at the door for a few seconds. 

"No," He finally managed to sputter before he was slamming the door behind him and walking towards the stairs. 

He was calling Bee before he even got the door open. 

"Good morning, Andrew," She answered sweetly. Andrew hated how chipper she sounded but she knew that. She told him once that just because he didn't like how happy she acted, she wasn't going to change how she acted just for him. This was her and Andrew was going to have to deal with it if he still wanted her as his therapist. 

Andrew almost found the sound of her voice comforting for some reason. He shook the feeling away as he dropped the donut box on the ground beside him. 

He picked his cigarette box and lighter off the gravel where he left it usually and didn't answer her until he'd already lit up. 

"Why are you up so early?" He asked, voice rougher than he imagined it would be. 

"Benny woke me up after four to go outside and I figured there was no point in going back to sleep. Watching the sun start to rise instead of set was a nice change of scenery, I will admit." Bee responded and Andrew hugged his knees to his chest as he, too, stared out at the sunrise. 

Benny was a nine month old rescue dog Bee had adopted three weeks ago. Andrew had went to the shelter to help her pick him out. It was a nice day, in Andrew's mind. 

It was sun dappled and full of smiles and laughter. Andrew got to sit in the cat room and let the kittens and older cats climb all over him as they begged for his attention. He got to walk, like, seven dogs and he got to pet them all and give them treats. 

It was nice. It was a really nice fucking day. 

"Do you mind if I ask what you're doing up so early?" She asked sweetly, politely. Andrew disliked how polite she could be, too. At first, it made him think that she didn't have a spine. After the first time she'd told him off with that polite smile and firm words, Andrew realized that most of it was an act. 

Betsy Dobson was not a woman to be messed with. Andrew was a little bit proud to admit that he knew her, that he cared for her and she cared for him. 

"Kevin wasn't in the dorm when I woke up this morning," Andrew responded and allowed himself to hold the smoke in his lungs longer than he usually would. He refused to let the panic set in again, even if it was still tingling at the base of his skull. His hands were still shaking. 

He tried to remind himself that Kevin was alright, but how could he truly know unless he felt Kevin's skin underneath his own two hands? How could he know? _How could he fucking know?_

"Oh," Betsy sounded dismayed, "Why was that?" 

"He went on a run," Andrew inhaled, "by himself." He exhaled. 

"Oh," Betsy said again, this time in understanding, "Is he back now?" 

Andrew tried not to pick it out, but he could hear the veiled worry in her tone, "Yes." 

"That's good," Betsy mumbled, sipping something on the other side of the line, "At least he's getting back into the swing of things. It probably makes him feel good to be able to do something normal to him." 

"I-" Andrew cut himself off because he didn't know what he was even trying to say. He didn't know, he didn't fucking know. 

He thought he'd had it all figured out last night, he thought he'd understood when Kevin was ten feet away from him snoring away in his bed. 

How could Andrew be so stupid to think he understood the intricacies of his own brain? The little shit had been ruining Andrew's life since he was seven years old and hurting. What made Andrew think he could get a hold on it now? What made him think it was his to understand, anyways? 

Just because it belonged to Andrew didn't mean it was going to do him any favors. 

Betsy didn't say anything as she waited him out. She did that sometimes, waited until he could get his words in the correct order. Sometimes she prompted him and he would rephrase what she asked to answer his own question. 

"I don't like when- No, wait-" Andrew pressed his forehead to his knees and held his breath, finished cigarette smoldering on the ground next to the donut box. 

Betsy hummed, "It's okay, Andrew. Take your time." 

Time. There it was. 

Andrew acted like he had so much of it when he didn't. There were only so many hours in a day, so many minutes in an hour, so many seconds in a minute. Time was a circle that Andrew had no way of getting out of the middle of. He was trapped in between the past and the future no matter which direction he headed and- Fuck, his head hurt. 

He lit another cigarette and stared at the donut box. He said, "He brought home donuts." 

"That was nice of him," Betsy seemed to smile and Andrew had the sudden urge to pick the box up and toss it over the side. In theory the box would just smack the ground and most likely all the donuts would just roll out, which is a lot less satisfying than watching each of them get ruined individually until Andrew felt better. 

"I want to throw them off the roof," Andrew told her and she hummed as she thought. 

"You're angry," She concluded but he didn't say what about. 

She hummed again, "Are you angry at Kevin or yourself?" 

"Both," He responded. It was so much easier to answer questions than it was to talk on your own. 

Andrew- He- He'd grown so used to being apathetic, to making himself not feel anything, that when it came to explaining his feelings, his true deep down wishy fucking washy _feelings_ , he had no idea what words to use. It was like handing a first grader a copy of The Great Gatsby and telling them to read it all in one sitting and then write a ten page essay on what the story was about. 

Andrew didn't know how to read the book, let alone write the essay. He had no idea what the fuck he was doing. 

_He had no fucking idea what he was doing._

"Why is that, do you think?" She asked and Andrew swallowed, perching his chin on his knees and taking a drag. 

He slowly let the smoke roll out of his mouth and watching it as it floated up into the sky and disappeared. Andrew wished he could do that with his brain. Just throw it towards the heavens in hopes it would disintegrate into smoke and never be seen again. 

He thought about his words, and then he thought about them again, realized that nothing he said was going to make sense to anyone but himself, and said them anyways, "I'm angry at myself because I'm angry at him for not being there when I woke up." 

Betsy made a noise as she mulled that over. That's another thing he liked about her, she never just spouted her therapist bullshit. She thought about her next question and she thought about it carefully, "Why do you think you're angry at him? Is it just because he wasn't there or is it because of something much larger?" 

She would fucking ask some shit like that. 

Andrew almost hung up. He almost pressed the little red button and almost allowed himself to drop his phone over the edge. 

He wouldn't let himself do it, though, no matter how much he wanted to. 

He owed this to Neil and to Kevin and to Nicky and Aaron, he owed getting better to them. He had to get better for them and more importantly for himself. 

Andrew couldn't keep living his life from one repressed emotion to the next. He couldn't keep living his life as an apathetic shell of a man. He was growing up, _he was growing up,_ and he had to learn how to deal with his shit or he was never going to further his personal relationships in the way he wanted to. 

He took a deep breath and let it out. He brought the cigarette to his lips and breathed in as deeply as he could before he coughed, and let it all out in one long go. 

"I'm angry at him for trying to kill himself and I'm angry because I care." Andrew tells her around another mouthful of smoke. He hates the words as they leave his mouth. They're like bile crawling up his throat and spilling onto the pavement below. They're damaging and the truth of what's been eating at Andrew since he'd cried for the first time in twelve years. 

Kevin had almost died and Andrew had cried because he was scared in a way he hadn't been since Baltimore and it _hurt_ \- it fucking hurt in ways he couldn't even imagine saying out loud. 

"This is good, Andrew," Betsy encourages him, "admitting that you care about Kevin's suicide attempt is a great step forward." 

"Is it?" Andrew suddenly snaps, "how can it be good when it took him almost dying for me to realize-" 

"It's a normal thing a lot of people experience, Andrew. No one realizes how good something is until it's gone. No one realizes how much they care for someone until their dead. People get so used to having something as simple as a friend in their life that they don't realize how much of an impact that friend has made until they're already gone." 

Betsy said the word _'friend'_ like it was a big enough word to encompass what he and Kevin were. 

He wanted to sneer the word at her, chew it up and spit it back out until it was mangled and distorted. Andrew Minyard didn't have friends, he had people he protected. 

"I shoved my fingers down his throat and all I could think of was Aaron nearly dying when we were seventeen and I- Betsy, I couldn't even look at him. I can barely look at him _now._ I keep thinking that if I don't look at him and if he dies, then I wont remember what he looked like. I keep thinking about how I don't _want_ to remember what he looks like because then it won't hurt as bad when he _does_ die." 

"It sounds like you don't have much faith in him or his recovery," Bee breezily said and Andrew smashed his half finished cigarette into a donut before lighting up another one. 

Andrew dropped on leg over the edge and allowed himself a few seconds to enjoy the sharp thrill of fear that shot through his spine. He placed his elbow on his knee, his cigarette in his mouth, and his hand in his hair. 

It was funny how alike this conversation was to the one he and Neil had had just last night. 

"I do have faith in him," Andrew insisted and he had to believe that, he had to believe that because then he'd be a liar and that was one thing Andrew refused to be, "I have faith that he'll eventually get over Riko and that he'll eventually become his own person, I- I just- I'm scared it won't be enough for him." 

"What do you mean by that?" 

"Every time he's out of my sight for more than a few minutes I start to lose it, Bee. He- What if I could have done something? What if we hadn't left for the weekend? None of this would have ever happened, Kevin wouldn't have been left alone, he wouldn't of had access to the pills, he wouldn't have tried to end his life." 

Andrew's guilt from not being there was slowly eating him alive and he didn't know what else he could feed it so it would leave him alone. 

"So, you're angry because you get nervous whenever he's not near you, and in those moments when you're not watching him you're scared that he might try something else and you won't be there to save him like you did last time?" 

How she put it so plainly, Andrew would never know. 

Ten minutes of phone conversation for her to say exactly what he was feeling in the span of seven seconds. 

God, Andrew hated himself and how worthless brain to mouth coordination. 

"Yeah," Andrew whispered because it was true and he was done denying his truths. 

"Why do you think you feel that way? Is it because you blame yourself for not being there to prevent the first attempt or is it because you feel like you still need to protect him, even if it's not from Riko this time?" 

"Kevin will always need my protection," Andrew answered flatly, "he'd end up dead in a ditch if I didn't look out for him." 

"Didn't your deal end with Riko's death? Isn't that why you and Neil were going out by yourselves on the weekends in the first place? So that Kevin could learn what it meant to be by himself?" 

"Doesn't matter if Riko is dead or not, he still has Kevin by the throat and I can't- No, I _won't_ let him ruin Kevin from the grave. Kevin deserves better than that." 

"Your fierce protection for the ones you love will never stop amazing me, truly," Betsy chuckled and Andrew froze. 

_Love._

_The ones you love._

Andrew couldn't breath. 

"I don't love Kevin," He said, his voice barely above a whisper. She heard him anyways. 

"Okay," Betsy agreed with him easily, "but I do think we should discuss this further at our session tomorrow." 

"Okay," Andrew repeated her. 

"Eat a donut for me," Betsy said. 

And then she hung up. 

The sneaky bitch _knew_ what she was doing, she _knew_ it, Andrew was _convinced_ she knew. 

She had to. 

Otherwise she never would have said the L word in reference to Kevin fucking Day to Andrew at all. 

Andrew smashed his cigarette into the same donut as before and picked up one on the other side of the box. 

He ate through it in small, slow bites as he watched the sun rise and he all he could think of was Kevin and Neil downstairs, watching TV and chatting and breathing the same air while Andrew sat up here breathing different air. 

When his hands started to shake again, he knew he needed to get his eyes on them both or he was going to explode from the inside out. 

He returned to the dorm empty handed, having thrown the rest of the donuts away on his way down the stairs. 

There, on the couch, with very little space between them, was a freshly showered Neil and Kevin, intently watching the screen as an old Penn State game played on the TV. 

Andrew briefly entertaining the thought of them showering together, felt his dick twitch, and immediately made himself forget the thought. 

When they saw him in the doorway, they wordlessly scooted apart to make space for him and Andrew just knew.

At least he thought he did, he'd thought he _knew_ two times prior to this moment as well. 

He sat down in between them and Neil, without taking his eyes off the TV, lifted Andrew's arm up so he could tuck himself underneath it. Kevin rearranged his blanket to fit all three of them and sat close enough to Andrew that he could feel Kevin radiating body heat. 

Andrew, in the name of science and experimentation, wrapped a hand around Kevin's ankle that was closest to him and rubbed his thumb along the line of it just to _feel,_ because he wanted to and he knew that Kevin wanted to, also. 

Kevin, his eyes still on the screen because _where else would they fucking be,_ unconsciously shuffled closer which pushed his knees further under his chin. Andrew felt the tap on his fingers and lifted the ones Kevin had tapped. When he felt some of Kevin's fingers wrap around his own he fucking _knew._

He fucking knew and his heart gave a little jump in his chest when he realized that he was happy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi it's me again w some more explaining bc as i was rereading for mistakes (if there r still some lord forgive me its 430 in the morning) i realized sum
> 
> neil wasn't acting unbothered 2 be an asshole or bc he doesn't care, he was just rationalizing the situation in a way that andrew couldn't bc of his anxiety !! 
> 
> he was worried, sure, but not in the way drew was, he wanted 2 gather all the facts b4 he started jumping to conclusions like drew had- which is ok!! neil does have issues w kev not being around him for certain periods of time but he doesn't panic in a way that andrew does
> 
> ... see what i mean when i say that drew has feelings in this fic whoops
> 
> also, i kno that the notes on this chapter r going wild and r long asf so i'll try 2 be brief abt it- but another thing i noticed when i was rereading was that drew thinks about kev sexually- which- ok, listen, kev needs 2 get better on his own terms and by himself before he can think abt being better for others around him, and w that being said, just bc andrew has some ~thoughts~ abt kev does not mean that he's going to act on them!! 
> 
> gentle reminder that kev STILL thinks that drew and neil r jus his rlly good friends, even if he luvs them!! drew JUST started to put things together!! neil is still an oblivious clown who likes to cuddle and hold hands w his bf and one of his best friends at the same time!! andrew is waiting for neil 2 start to connect stuff b4 he brings any of it up bc he doesn't want 2 push anything on 2 neil and he's not going 2 speak to kev abt it until kev is officially taking giant leaps forward w his recovery process!! 
> 
> ok that is all 
> 
> also this might b a weird time but my tumblr @ is kevindazes if u want 2 pop in and say hi or send an ask!!!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for past suicide attempt + some of kev's violent thoughts + riko

“Let’s play spin the bottle!” 

“Let’s _not.”_

Kevin was drunk. 

Well, as drunk as Andrew allowed him to be. 

He didn’t know that he would be allowed to drink that night until Andrew poured three separate shots and pushed one across the counter to him. He’d looked at the thing for a whole minute before his brain finally responded and he downed it, Neil doing the same right along with him. 

He’d started getting his own beers a while ago. Andrew refused to let him hog the bottle of vodka, pointedly staring at the fridge like that was going to curb Kevin’s craving for the one drink that could make him forget. 

“Why not?” Nicky whined. He was sprawled halfway on the couch, upside down. Kevin marveled at how comfortable he looked and wondered how Nicky had even gotten himself in that position. 

“Because I don’t want to kiss any of you heathens,” Dan proclaimed from her seat on Matt’s lap. She downed her drink right after to punctuate her sentence. 

“Never have I ever?” Allison suggested, eyes on the TV where she was actively winning against Aaron in Mario Kart. Aaron cursed loudly when he ran into a turtle shell. 

_Maybe that’s why Andrew never lets him drive_ , Kevin thought absently. 

Nicky snapped his fingers and pointed in Allison’s direction, “Never have I ever! Yes!” 

“ _No!”_ Dan protested around a mouthful of Matt’s beer, which she had stolen instead of getting up for another one of her mixed drinks. Matt smiled up at her with such a dopey- _I’m-so-in-love_ look on his face that Kevin had to look away for a moment. 

Did he ever look at Andrew like that? Or Neil? If he did, then he was screwed. He couldn’t be so obvious. 

"Yes!" Nicky countered and slid onto the floor artfully. How he didn't land on his head, Kevin didn't know or understand and he was too buzzed to really care. 

"Everyone, circle up," Nicky commanded. A princess tiara sat sideways on his head and his crop top was bright pink with the word _'Princess'_ written across it in silver press on diamonds. He'd slung an arm around Kevin's neck not ten minutes prior and adjusted the tiara on his own head, saying, "We'll get you a crown Kev, just like mine, cuz you're the queen." 

Allison passed the finish line in first place and set the controller aside, sending a kiss and a wink at Aaron when he glared at her. 

She moved and sat between Matt's legs, leaning her head back against Dan as she took the beer Dan offered her. 

Renee was in the kitchen, grabbing a water bottle, so Allison called out to her to ask her to bring more drinks. 

Kevin watched, sipping on his own beer, warm and dazed, as Dan easily ran a comfortable hand through Allison's blonde locks. Matt's hands joined hers, one letting go of Dan's thigh to meet the other so he could twist a single, small braid through a bit of Allison's hair. 

He wondered if it was that easy, if closeness and intimacy like that was something that you just let happen without thinking about the consequences of it. In the Nest, closeness between you and anyone but your partner was forbidden. Kevin had seen first hand at what had happened to Jean when Riko realized Kevin liked him. 

He stared at a bit of carpet and downed the rest of his beer as the memory rolled behind his eyelids. 

_Jean tied to a bed, Jean crying, Jean pleading in Japanese for his life to a smirking Riko with a knife._

Andrew nudged his side and it took a few seconds before Kevin could pull his eyes away from the carpet to look at him. 

Andrew had barely said two words to him since the other morning, when he'd brought home the donuts. On his way to class later that day, he caught sight of the box half shoved into a trashcan and still half full of donuts. Kevin didn't know why it hurt, really, but it did. Mostly because he felt like he'd done something wrong and because he didn't know what he'd done, he didn't know how to fix it. 

Andrew's golden eyes caught his and for just those few seconds, Andrew looked at him and he looked at Andrew. He could tell that Andrew was trying to read him, whether he was too drunk or too in his memories to claw his way out of them. 

Kevin gave him a small nod and the smallest smile he could manage, trying to make it seem like he wasn't just remembering the way his hands shook the first time he'd had to thread a needle with floss and stitch Jean up. 

It took Kevin awhile, but he'd realized that the memories he'd had of his firsts were the most painful. His first kiss. His first time hungover. His first time reading who his father was in his mother's handwriting. His first time outscoring Riko.

His first time googling _is it okay to like boys and girls at the same time._

Andrew raised his eyebrows slightly, clearly seeing through the smile and knowing Kevin was definitely not in the right head space. 

"Do you want to leave?" Andrew leaned forward to ask him, his voice low to keep from drawing the others attention. That failed, of course, because Allison has the eyes of a hawk and can spot gossip and secrets from miles away. 

Kevin ignored her eyes and focused on Andrew as he shook his head, "No," he said, "I'm good, I promise. Just remembered a few things. Being around them helps." 

Andrew stared at him for a couple of seconds longer, making sure that he was being truthful, before he nodded once and leaned away. 

Just then, Renee passed by the couch they were sitting on and handed Kevin another beer. Wordlessly, Andrew grabbed it and twisted the top off for him. Kevin tried to smother his smile as he took the beer from Andrew and sipped it. 

Maybe closeness wasn't something so blatantly obvious for people like them and maybe that was okay.

Kevin took another gulp of his drink and nearly choked on it when he felt a hand land somewhere above his knee. He had to hide it with the fakest cough he could manage, but without even looking he knew whose hand it was.

Allison's eyebrows shot up. 

Kevin, because he was Kevin, decided he was not going to acknowledge the hand on his knee. He wasn't going to look at Andrew and ask him why. He wasn't going to shake it off either. It was easier to be here, truly here, in the moment, with something to tether him there.

He sipped his beer and met Allison's challenging eyes dead on. 

She started to laugh once she realized that Kevin was not going to back down but she hid it well. 

"Are we gonna play or are we gonna play?" Nicky asked, excitedly. 

Honestly, Kevin didn't really know anything about Never Have I Ever. What he did know about it was amassed from the millions of movies they'd forced him to consume in the time he'd been a fox. 

"Yes, Nicky, Dear," Allison reached over and patted his knee, "We are going to play." 

"Rules?" Matt hummed. Kevin watched as his knuckles lazily trailed up and down Dan's spine while the fingers of his other hand combed through Allison's hair, undoing the braids he'd done before. 

"A person says something they've never done and whoever has done it, drinks." Nicky explained, chasing the straw in his fruity drink with his mouth and tongue as he looked up at the man. 

"You go first," Dan slurred at him and Nicky squealed excitedly before he set his drink down and got up on his knees. He was so energetic tonight and Kevin did not know how he managed it. It was a challenge just to convince himself to get out of bed every morning and he had no idea how Nicky could muster this much artificial happiness. Kevin had personally seen the bottles of pills with Nicky's name on them. 

He'd googled them when he first saw them, just to make sure that they weren't anything that could hinder his performance on the court. 

When he saw the word _anti-depressant_ , he immediately closed out of each search tab. 

"Never have I ever had sex with someone who plays exy," Nicky smirked, "Drink up, suckers." 

Everyone in the room drank besides Aaron. 

Allison swallowed her beer and sighed at Nicky, "If you wanted to get me drunk, Hemmick, all you had to do was ask." 

"Sorry, sweetcheeks," Nicky smiled, "this sweet ass belongs to a tall blonde German man." 

"Sucks for me," Allison rolled her eyes. "Alright, my go," She sat up straighter, "Never have I ever had sex in a public place." 

"Why do all of these have to be so sexual?" Aaron complained, drinking a little of his own beer. 

Kevin cleared his throat and wondered if he should drink. 

Of course, no one would question it if he didn't. Everyone would if he did. 

He tried to not think about it, he really did. He tried to keep the memory at bay. He tried to let Andrew's hand guide him out, but in the end it was no use. Kevin was subject to the memory whether he liked it or not. Nothing was going to stop it as it played behind his eyes. 

Riko taking him outside on the balcony of their hotel room in New York. Riko kissing him harshly. Riko bending him over the railing. Riko whispering in his ear _mine, all mine, and I want everyone down there to see it, to know who you belong to._

Technically, it wasn't in public. They were far, far _above_ the public. Kevin didn't drink.

They went around like that in a circle. The three of them on their little couch didn't offer up any Never Have I Ever's and no one expected them to. 

"Never have I ever had sex on an Exy court." Renee muttered and everyone groaned and sighed and rolled their eyes at her. Kevin drank, his beer still mostly full. 

Kevin gritted his teeth and said absolutely nothing when both Andrew and Neil drank. 

Allison, because she was Allison, gasped dramatically, "Neil! How scandalous!" 

Kevin felt Neil shrug and smirk more than he saw it. 

"And you too, Day? Was the Nest really that wild?" 

Kevin tried not to think about the friction burns that had stayed on his knees for weeks after Riko fucked him into the court floor in the middle of the night. Tried not to think about how one side of his face was red and raw feeling for days after. Riko would kiss it and snort a laugh when Kevin would wince, delighting in the little bit of pain he was causing every time he did it.

"I've done a lot of shit that would surprise you," He shrugged, but it was an act. Everything was these days. He was getting tired. 

Andrew's hand tightened on his knee. Kevin ignored him. He swallowed the rest of his beer and dropped the bottle next to the ones already at his feet. 

"You want another?" Aaron asked as he passed Kevin on his way to the kitchen. 

Kevin opened his mouth to reply with a yes but Andrew sent him a warning glance. 

"No," Kevin muttered, sadly. Aaron just nodded and continued to the kitchen. 

"I'm fine," Kevin snapped at Andrew quietly.

"Wrong choice of words there, Kev, try again." 

"I'm not drunk. I can still drink." 

"You say that, but you clearly don't hear the way your words are starting to slur." 

"I'm just tired," He tried to defend, but even he couldn't deny the way the world was starting to go a little fuzzy around the edges. 

"Time to head home, then," Andrew told him and Kevin let out a long-suffering sigh that made Andrew quirk an eyebrow at him. 

"Am I really that awful?" Andrew asked him, most likely not oblivious to the way Allison was staring at them intently. Andrew didn't care so he didn't acknowledge her, Kevin knew, but that didn't change the fact that Kevin couldn't ignore it. 

"No," Kevin said, low and raw and truthful in a way he felt he hasn't been in weeks, "no, you're not." 

Andrew was staring at him now, in that way that he does when the energy shifts between them. Kevin could practically feel it crackling in the air around them. 

For a moment, one glorious moment, it was just the two of them, staring. It was just the two of them in this little bubble Kevin had created in his mind and fuck if he didn't want to kiss him. 

He wanted Andrew to whisper a small yes or no and he wanted to answer with a just as quiet yet and he wanted to feel the energy spark and catch flame as their lips finally met. It's be like two waves colliding, like a punch in the face. Kevin wanted to feel something like that so badly, wanted to be reminded that things like that still existed for someone like him. 

He wanted to be reminded that there was still a bit of magic in the world, in him, in _them_. 

Andrew turned away from him and the energy shattered. 

Kevin sighed again. 

Andrew squeezed his knee once, quickly swiped the outside of his knee with his thumb, and then took his hand away from Kevin's leg completely. 

"Up," He told Neil, who frowned. 

"I wanna stay a bit longer," Neil protested and Andrew just shrugged at him. 

"I still need my legs to move and one of yours is currently in my way," Andrew told him and Neil had the decency to blush before he leaned in for a quick kiss and moved his leg. 

"You going too, Kev?" Neil asked, eyebrows furrowed in questioning. 

"Yeah," He nodded and Neil just smiled at him and nodded back. 

"Alright, I'll be home in a few. Don't wait up." 

Kevin couldn't deny Neil a little smile back before he got up off the couch and turned towards the door where Andrew was waiting for him. 

He tried to suppress the little shiver that crawled up his spine when Neil's fingers lightly trailed over his outer thigh as he passed. 

Allison's eyebrows flew up to her hairline. 

She actually snickered. 

Kevin was glad he was leaving. Neil would be subject to quite the line of questioning once Andrew and he left. 

Kevin closed the door behind him softly, though he was unsure as to why. He felt like he needed to be quiet. Or he felt like because the world was being quiet, that he should be too. Or maybe it was because Andrew's stillness behind him was making something still in Kevin as well. 

He was too tired and too confused about everything in his brain. 

Andrew tugged at his sleeve and Kevin turned to look at him. 

"You must be drunker than I thought," Andrew told him, "I shouldn't have let you drink so much." 

"I'm okay," Kevin says for what he feels like is the millionth time. He's so tired of saying he's okay. He's so tired of everything. 

He feels so down, so low and dumb and off kilter. He feels like his life is one big cluster fuck that he can never dig his way out of. 

Andrew helps. Neil helps, too. The team helps and so does his father and his sessions with Betsy. 

They help, and maybe that's good enough for short term but long term? Kevin's not sure he can survive. 

He's not sure he's willing to survive. 

Being this tired, this put down, is taking its toll and even if everyone can't see it, he knows that they, Andrew and Neil, can. He can see it with his own two eyes and he feels like he's letting everyone down. 

_A disappointment,_ Riko had said to him once, _that is what you are. You'll never be anything else, Kevin, but that's okay. You have me to make you look good for the cameras._

Kevin wanted to lay down on the unclean, disgusting carpet right there in the hallway and sleep for the next million years. He wanted to lay down and never get up. He wanted to lay down in Andrew's bed and smell his pillow and press his fox blanket to his face and sleep as long as he was allowed to. 

He could imagine it, Neil crawling into bed with him and curling around his body. Andrew behind them with his back to the wall and his own hand slung over Kevin so he could reach Neil too. 

It was a perfect scenario planted in an imperfect brain and Kevin hated himself a little bit for tainting it with impossibilities and anxiety. 

Kevin doesn't remember Andrew pulling him into the room or Andrew pushing him towards the couch so he could lay down. All he knows is that suddenly Andrew is moving his body around easily and dropping his fox blanket onto his face. 

"Sleep," Andrew says and Kevin wants to, he wants to, but he knows that if he does then tomorrow will come faster. 

Tomorrow beings new responsibilities and a session with Betsy and practice and classes and the horribleness of being alive. Kevin doesn't want that. He wants to lay in this dark room with Andrew and just be for the first time in his life. 

He wants to just exist without all the earthly attachments to his person getting in the way. He wants to exist like that with the only people he loves. 

Andrew keeps the room dark for Kevin's sake it seems, moving around easily with the little bit of light that's streaming in from the kitchen. Someone had turned on the oven overhead light before they left the room that night. Kevin guessed it was Neil, but it could have been Andrew. 

Kevin starts to get comfortable on the couch, blood warm and his limbs sluggishly moving about. He feels buzzed and alight in a way he hasn't been in a while and it's nice. He feels like he can say anything right now, absolutely anything and none of it would matter. 

Everything is so quiet and Kevin can say anything and _none of it would matter._

"Did you ever try?" Kevin asks, though he's not really sure where the question comes from. He's thought about it, of course. 

The first time he'd ever seen Andrew's scars had been on a flat screen TV in court room seven during Aaron's murder trial. He tried to look away from them, tried to scrub them from his mind, but he couldn't. He couldn't look away and his hearing had went fuzzy and all he remembers feeling is pure, unadulterated rage towards Drake Spear. 

He'd wished, in that single moment as the lawyer's heels clicked across the polished linoleum floor and Andrew sat, stone faced and apathetic at the witness stand, that he had been the one to kill Drake. He wanted nothing more than to stomp his fool head in and then, after Drake was pleading and his face was covered in blood, he'd take his head in his hands and coo at him in false hope. He'd make Drake think that it was over, that the beating was all he was going to receive and that he was free to go. 

Drake would sigh in relief and thank Kevin for being so kind. 

Then, and only then, would Kevin pull his head up and sharply to the left. 

He'd watched Moriyama enforcers do it enough times to know that Drake would stop breathing. He'd die and his blood would be on Kevin's hands. 

And after that, Kevin would wash his hands clean of it in the Hemmick's guest bathroom and share a snort of laughter with his reflection at the bible verse handing on the wall. 

"Try what?" Andrew asks, distractedly rearranging the throw pillows on the couch behind Kevin's body. 

Kevin lifted his head up and whined a little. Andrew got the message and shoved one of the pillows under Kevin's head. 

"You know, 'Drew," Kevin muttered as he readjusted himself. 

"If I knew," Andrew stepped away and grabbed the blanket that was thrown over the back of the couch, "I wouldn't be asking." 

"Did you ever try to kill yourself?" 

Andrew paused in his movements, briefly, before he threw the blanket over Kevin's body and tucking in the edges. 

Kevin was trying not to think too much about all this, about Andrew literally tucking him in, but it was hard not to when he could feel the brushes of Andrew's hands against his clothes every few seconds. 

"No," Andrew answered, voice plain and firm. 

"Why not?" Kevin asked. He genuinely wanted to know. 

"What didn't you when you lived at the Nest?" 

Kevin's breath hitched and his mind helpfully supplied the images of the memory without him asking. He needed to learn how to control his mind before it started to control him. 

It was a useless endeavor though, seeing how his mind seemed to already wear the pants in that relationship. 

Kevin _had_ tried. He'd managed to stab himself four times before he'd been found. 

"I did." Kevin blankly tells him and Andrew stills completely. 

"What?" His voice is genuinely confused, questioning. Kevin squirms around until he'd undone all the work Andrew put into tucking him in. 

He pushed the blanket done and pulled his shirt up. 

There, clustered in the middle of his chest, were the four scars to prove his words true. 

Andrew's hand stopped mere inches from touching them, his eyes beetle like and shining in the dim darkness of the room. 

Kevin stared back at those eyes and saw the unspoken question in them. He nodded. 

Andrew's fingers were cold. 

Kevin laid there, still and quietly breathing, as Andrew's fingers traced the four scars, one after the other. 

"What did you do?" Andrew's voice was low, but not soft. It was full of gravel, strained with the type of emotion he only let Kevin see when there weren't any lights on. 

Kevin didn't want to explain this part, but he didn't really care at the moment. Alcohol had made his tongue loose. 

Kevin shifted onto his back and Andrew dropped to his knees on the floor beside the couch, his fingers still tracing a continuous line over the cluster of scars. They weren't very big but they were deep enough that the scar tissue was raised. He'd been so desperate that he didn't even care that the knife he took wasn't long enough to do much damage. He'd hoped that he'd bleed out before anyone had the chance to find him. 

"Jean and I weren't allowed bottles of pills," Kevin muttered into to the dark quietly, but this was a place for truths and this was a truth he'd been waiting to tell, so he continued, "for obvious reasons. Jean had tried to kill himself before with some, so they switched him and I to monitored small packets with just two pills inside. We were only allowed one packet per day and it was impossible to hoard them because we had room sweeps every week or so. If Jean or I were found with more than two unopened packets, we'd get caned." 

Andrew leaned his head on the edge of the sofa, right next to Kevin's exposed side. Kevin could feel his breath against his skin and he suppressed the shiver that threatened to roll up his spine. 

"Anyways, I don't really remember what triggered it. I just know that I'd spent twenty minutes trying not to cry as I picked the lock on the bottom drawer of Riko's dresser. He was off at some press thing for one of his other teams and most of the other Ravens were home for their three days of holiday time. Jean was in his room working on his schoolwork. I was alone and I think that was their first mistake.

"I snatched the first knife I saw because I knew that I had very little time before Riko called or a Moriyama guard came to check on me. Of course, with my luck, I'd snatched one his smaller ones, but that was okay. I figured if I stabbed myself enough times with it then I'd die of blood loss or something." 

Kevin fluttered his eyes open to look sideways at where Andrew's head lay and was surprised to find the man's golden eyes already trained on him. Andrew's fingers were still swirling around, fingertips light against Kevin's heated skin. 

Kevin closed his eyes again and moved one of his hands. He made sure he was moving slow enough, like he'd seen Neil do a million times before. If he'd moved too fast, he could scare Andrew away. If he moved too fast, he could remind Andrew of things. So, Kevin moved slow and let his hand hover a few inches away from Andrew's wrist before he touched. 

His only confirmation that the touch was okay was a small, pleased grunt from Andrew and the feel of Andrew pressing his wrist up to meet Kevin's hand. 

Kevin had started to get anxious as he talked, but with Andrew's skin underneath his palm and Andrew's hand on his chest, he was slowly calming down. 

"They found me on the court," Kevin finally said. It'd taken him a couple of minutes to finally get the words out, but Andrew had waited patiently for him to continue. It was nice. It was kind. That made Kevin's eyes water a bit but he keep them closed. He refused to cry because Andrew was being fucking nice to him. 

(Honestly, Kevin always cries a bit when someone does something nice for him. He's been shown so little kindness in his life that when he actually receives some, it shocks his brain and his automatic response is to grow teary eyed (he'd have to fix this, really, he was like Pavlov's dog's drooling as soon as they heard the bell)). 

"They had a person in the east tower, watching over the court that night. I, of course, didn't know that they had people stationed in the towers. If I had, I'd have laid in the comfort of my own bed as I stabbed myself. Of course, my luck's always been bad, I suppose. I'd only managed the four stabs before the patrol was sent through to see what I was doing." 

Andrew lifted his head then and Kevin paused the movement of his thumb on Andrew's arm. He'd been sweeping it back and forth in smooth lines, mostly because he really liked it when Andrew did that to him but also because it was helping him to keep talking. 

Andrew propped his chin on Kevin's bare side and Kevin's eyes snapped open against his will. Thank God they were no longer watery, he'd have been mortified if he'd started crying over something as small as this. 

"What'd they do to you?" Andrew's voice was measured, equal parts apathetic and angry. Kevin didn't know what he was angry about, but it didn't really matter. There was nothing Andrew could do now. 

Kevin was free (well, not completely, but mostly, and he guesses that's what mattered) and Riko was dead and there was absolutely nothing to be done about it. There was nothing for Andrew to get riled up about, there was no face for him to sneer in and no 'Riko Fuck Face' to snarl insults at. 

It was just a part of Kevin's past that no one else, besides Jean and Riko (Thea, too, but Kevin hadn't spoken to her in so long, he doubted she even answer if he called), knew about. 

Why Kevin had found the courage to tell it tonight was beyond him. 

"I was conscious, of course, which was the horrible part of it. The first stab was the hardest. I'd rolled the knife around in my hands for minutes before I even flicked the blade open. He'd used the exact same knife to cut up Jean two nights before and all I could hear were Jean's screams when I looked at it. I was also crying, which, was stupid because I couldn't see anything past the tears in my eyes. 

"It took me, like, two more minutes just looking at the thing before I could even put the tip to my chest. Another whole minute after that, I just did it. I just- just slipped the thing in between my skin." Kevin brought his other hand up to softly brush Andrew's bangs out of his eyes. They'd been staring at each other as Kevin talked. The hair fell back into Andrew's eyes and Kevin had the urge just to run his entire hand through it. 

He almost did it, too, but then he remembered himself and he remembered who Andrew was, and he stopped his hand before it could make contact. 

"Go ahead," Andrew told him when he realized he was waiting for permission. His eyes were still trained intently on Kevin's face, but Kevin was busying himself with watching the way Andrew's pale blonde hair moved through his fingers. 

He tried to commit it to memory but his brain wouldn't concentrate. 

"It was easier after the first stab. I remember feeling the blood start to pool on the front of my shirt but I didn't feel a thing. I mean, I know I did, but thinking about it now, I can't remember what it felt like." Kevin shook his head, "They found me about to make a fifth stab wound in my stomach. I don't remember much after that, just that Riko was not happy when he got home. He tore my stitches out himself and made Jean redo them over and over again for hours. At some point, I'd gone completely numb. The only thing I remember feeling is the pressure of the needle pushing into my skin and the cold blade of the knife as Riko came over and cut them open again.

"It took them forever to heal. Riko would-" Kevin hesitated, trying to wrack his brain for if he'd ever said anything about he and Riko's.... sexual relationship to Andrew before. In the end, his brain was too tired to care, so he kept going, "He'd rip them out with his fingers when we had sex in the days after. He'd coat his fingers in my blood and then shove them in my mouth and ask me if I liked the taste." 

Andrew had tensed under his hands, so he made to pull them away. Andrew growled though, low and in warning. Kevin kept his hands where they were. 

"You never told me Riko and you were intimate," Andrew said evenly, but Kevin could still here the hot-skinned anger underneath it. 

"I never thought it mattered," Kevin tried to shrug, but it didn't work so well with how he was laying on the couch. He continued running his fingers through Andrew's hair, either trying to distract Andrew or himself from the conversation they were having. Possibly he was trying to distract them both. 

All he knew was that this was a night for truths and the truth was, Andrew's skin on his was the only thing keeping him from crawling in his bed and never getting out again. 

"Why the fuck wouldn't that matter, Kevin?" Andrew tried to stay calm, he really did, but his fingers pressed harder into Kevin's chest and Kevin knew he was angry that Kevin hadn't told him. 

"Because Riko didn't fuck me because he loved me," Kevin said, voice nearly cracking towards the end, "He fucked me because he loved to _control_ me. It was his favorite way to remind me of who I belonged to, that he was the only one allowed to make me feel that way." Kevin closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at the storm clouds gathering in Andrew's own, "Before I got with Thea, I had to ask him permission. After I'd gotten back from her room that night, he'd bent me over our bathroom sink and reminded me that I could fuck Thea all I wanted, but it wouldn't change the fact that he was the only one allowed to _fuck_ _me_." 

Kevin was getting sluggish. He wondered when Neil would come hopping in, cheeks rosy from the alcohol and smile wide and bright. He wondered how Neil would react if he was sitting on the ground right next to Andrew, listening and letting his anger turn his stomach. 

Kevin wondered if he even _wanted_ Neil to know. 

When he'd first met Neil, Kevin will admit, he'd developed a crush. The boy was small, but they'd been told he was a pretty excellent backliner. His auburn hair was unruly atop his head, much like it was now, and his eyes were wide with awe as he stared at the Raven's Exy court. 

It always caught Kevin by surprise, how many people seemed to be in awe of the court. He supposed it was because he'd grown up playing on that exact court since he was big enough to hold an Exy racket. 

They'd been told Neil was good, but, of course, Riko had to test the boy out himself. 

This is when Kevin started called the boy Nate instead of Nathaniel. He'd seen the way the boy would suppress a flinch every time Riko would snap his name at him, so Kevin adopted a new one for him. 

The boy had looked at him weirdly the first time Kevin had called him the nickname, but the more they played together and the more they saw of each other, the more accustomed they came to using it. 

Riko still refused to call the boy anything other than Nathaniel. Since it didn't effect Nate's game performance, Kevin didn't really bother to scold him on it. 

Kevin often forgets that he and Neil were technically childhood best friends. He often forgets that he'd known Neil when the iron burn on his shoulder was freshly blistered. 

Kevin wonders what it would have been like if Mary hadn't whisked her son away in the middle of the night with Moriyama cash tucked safely into a duffel bag. He wonders how things could have been different between them, between him and Riko. 

Would Riko still have broken his hand? Would he still have tortured Jean the way he did? Would he have just turned his torture on Neil once Jean was too spent to continue without his heart stopping? 

Neil had a four on his cheek when he came back from Christmas break, two years ago. Kevin wonders what it would have been like it'd been a three instead. 

"I would have cut his balls off if I'd known," Andrew grumbled. Kevin opened an eye and chuckled at the little scowl on Andrew's face. 

"He's dead, 'Drew," Kevin attempted another shrug and winced when his shoulder hit the arm of the couch. Matt had wiped him out in practice earlier today and he'd landed wrong on his shoulder. 

Neil, of course, had rushed over the moment he noticed that it'd been a minute or two and Kevin still hadn't gotten back up. 

Matt had been at his side, too, pushing on his shoulder and trying to figure out if he'd damaged it seriously or not. His rushed and genuinely terrified apologies had made Kevin shrug him off, saying, "As if you could hurt me with your weak ass body checks, Boyd, if you'd aim lower and drove your body with your core instead of your chest then we'd have something to worry about." 

Matt had just shook his head and rolled his eyes, muttering a, "Typical Kevin Day," before he helped Kevin off his feet and left him in the capable hands of Neil Josten. Kevin had noticed his sigh of relief though, after he'd said those words to Matt. 

The whole team had been walking on eggshells around him for weeks now. 

Kevin doesn't remember much from the days after his attempt, mostly because the only thing he'd been able to do when he was awake was throw up or stare blankly into the ceiling. He did remember these little bits and pieces, though, and they became things he held close to his heart. 

Allison appearing in the room in the early hours of the morning, sniffling and crying, throwing an extra blanket on top of his worn out form and raking her fingers through his hair. 

Dan bringing him his homework and a few extra books she'd checked out in her name so he could have something to read when he wasn't sleeping. 

Aaron sitting stoic by his beside with an equally stoic Andrew as they watched over his troubled sleep like some twisted pair of Guardian Angels. 

Nicky pressing kisses to his forehead and telling him all kinds of stories just to get him to crack a smile. 

Matt kicking his feet up on the edge of the bed and making himself comfortable on the chair as he positioning his laptop in between them so they could watch Exy games together and discuss stats. 

Renee making him chicken soup in the way her foster mother always had for her when she sick as a teenager.

Neil spreading his math homework out on the bed next to Kevin and offering Kevin an earbud so they could listen to music together as Neil worked. 

Abby checking his temperature and letting him watch the same Exy game on VHS twenty times in a row in her living room as she sat with him and asked questions about the game.

Betsy asking him if he needed anything before she left to go home. 

His dad... his dad checking in on him daily. His dad holding his hand for the first time ever. His dad talking to him about getting another tattoo. His dad _being there._

It was all a little too much, thinking about those specific moments. He didn't know how he could have convinced himself that he wasn't cared for... that he wasn't _loved_ by these people. 

They may not say it, but they know how to show it, and that- that is what makes their family so beautiful. Kevin wouldn't trade them for the fucking world. He'd die before he ever let anyone say one bad thing about them (he was the only one allowed to do that). 

"You think Neil's gonna crash at the girls place or will he be tumbling in at four am with lipstick stains all over his face again?" Kevin asked and looked down at Andrew with a small smile. 

Andrew huffed a sigh of annoyance and rolled his eyes, training them back on where his fingers were still idly tracing the knife scars, "If he ever comes home like that again, I'm breaking up with him." 

"Jealous?" Kevin smirked and Andrew scrunched his face up in disgust. 

"Of Allison? Never." 

"For all you know, Allison could have done Matt's makeup and it could've been _Matt's_ lipstick stains on Neil," Kevin retorted. In all honesty, it was a very likely possibility that had been what happened. Either that or Allison and Dan had trapped Neil on the sofa between them and showered him in affection. 

Andrew scowled again, "Matt would look terrible in red lipstick." 

"Says someone whose never seen him in red lipstick," Kevin replied. Andrew just gave him a dull look in reply. 

"Hey," Kevin smirked, "you can't tell me that you don't find Matt even a little bit attractive? His muscles alone? Whew, Nicky's right. Dan is a very lucky woman." 

Andrew was quiet, eyebrows not giving anything away about what he was turning over in his brain, "So," Andrew slowly started, "are you gay?" 

Kevin was slightly startled by the question, mostly because he wasn't expecting it. 

"One does not have to be gay to appreciate the beauty of another man, Andrew," Kevin replied. Andrew just stared at him blankly as if to say _duh, you dumb bitch_ and _you know that's not what I meant._

Kevin sighed and looked up at the ceiling, eyes finding the opening in the curtains and wandering over the stars in the night sky. 

"I don't know? I know that I started looking at boys before I ever even thought about looking at girls. Thea was the only girl I'd ever been with." 

"It's okay if you don't know," Andrew muttered, eyes sliding closed as he turned his cheek into the skin of Kevin's side. 

Why neither of them had bothered to pull Kevin's shirt back down from where he'd rucked it up to show Andrew his scars, Kevin didn't know. 

He did know that if he mentioned it, Andrew would extract himself from Kevin completely and that was the last thing Kevin wanted to happen. 

He hummed softly in his throat, closing his eyes once again and running his fingers softly up and down the length of Andrew's arm that he could reach. His other hand was still petting absently through Andrew's blonde curls. 

"I know," Kevin told him, because he did. He'd done enough research the year he turned thirteen to know that yes, he might like boys and yes, that was perfectly okay and normal and yes, it was okay for him not to put a label on himself until he knew exactly how he felt. 

"For a while," He started, "I thought of myself as pansexual, but that gradually changed the more research I did. I dunno, sometimes I think bisexual fits me better than anything else but then something will happen and I feel like I have to invent a whole new term for what I am." 

"And what term is that?" Andrew asked carefully, calmly. 

This conversation was entered dangerous territory. Kevin had to tread these waters carefully. If he slipped up, just once, just a little, Andrew would know and his life would be ruined. He'd be ruined. 

But then again, a little voice in his brain was insisting that he just blurt it out. He'd held this secret, _his_ secret, for so long now and in this moment it felt like his chest might burst if he didn't tell Andrew the truth about himself, about what he felt for him and Neil. 

Kevin had called this a night of truth, but maybe there was room for lies as well. 

He might have wanted to spill his guts to Andrew there, with their easy touches keeping his anxiety at bay and the darkness shielding him from Andrew's inescapable stare. _It would be so easy,_ he thinks, _so fucking easy just to blurt out everything I've kept bottled up for the past two years._

But, because the sun was gone and Neil was still away and because Andrew was staring at him in genuine curiosity, Kevin kept his mouth shut. 

It might have been a night of truths but it certainly was not a night for professing your love (it really was, but the more Kevin looked at Andrew, the more scared of rejection he became and he could not stand an existence where Andrew Minyard no longer wanted him in his life. His silly love tainted words would stay tucked in his cheek for him to poke at with his tongue until one day they burst open and flew out of his mouth). 

"I haven't figured that out yet," Kevin told him, "I'm somewhere between bisexual and demisexual, if that helps." 

"Demisexual?" Andrew asks, and Kevin nodded his head. 

"Well, demiromantic maybe? A demiromantic bisexual? Is that a thing?" Kevin wondered allowed. He'd begun tracing random letters and shapes onto the exposed skin of Andrew's arm, and with a start Kevin realized that Andrew wasn't wearing his arm bands. He didn't know when Andrew had taken them off, but he was not going to question it. 

It was just like his shirt. If Kevin mentioned it, Andrew would pull away. 

Kevin did not know when he and Andrew would get another chance like this, another chance to just talk in the dark and softly touch each other's skin. This night is a rarity and Kevin never wanted it to end. 

"I think?" Andrew shrugged his own shoulders, "Nicky would know more about that than I do." 

Kevin just nodded and leaned his head back further on the pillows, his fox blanket surrounding his head like a weird, mangy halo. 

"I don't care much for labels really," Kevin admitted lowly into the silence, "I love who I love." 

Andrew was silent for a minute after he'd said that and Kevin knew he was mulling something over because he could practically see Andrew warring with himself, even with his eyes closed. 

"And you loved Riko?" 

Kevin wanted to sigh, wanted to curl away from Andrew's now warm hands, wanted to pull those hands up so they could cup his face and trace his lips with careful fingers. 

"I used to think I did," Kevin started, but then stopped and rearranged his thoughts, "No, I know I did." 

Andrew hesitated again, "Do you still?" 

Kevin wanted to answer no, and that would have been the truth. He no longer loved Riko, or well, at least he didn't think he did. He remember the feeling of staring at Riko's grave and feeling like a piece of his heart had been ripped and put on display for everyone to see. He felt the same way about Jean, all the way out there in California with nothing but Jeremy's hands and Jeremy's smile to keep him warm. 

Kevin had told his mother he loved her before she left. Three hours later he was standing with Tetsuji in the West Virginia State Morgue as they pulled the white sheet back to reveal her cut up face. 

After that, he'd swore that he'd never say it aloud to anyone he loved ever again. 

Riko had never said it to him. Kevin figured it was because no one had ever said those words to Riko at all, not when he was a child and certainly not when he had his blade pushed up under their chin. 

Jean had told Kevin, once, in the smallest voice Kevin had ever heard Jean use. He'd said it in French in the dark of the night and Kevin had watched as the darkness of the Nest swallowed those words and used them against both of them. 

That night, Riko had broke four of Jean's ribs and had nearly gutted him. Kevin had held Jean's wrists to the headboard, watched it happen, had watched Riko place his soft hands to the broken parts of Jean's body and apply pressure. 

Jean had never said it to him again. 

And Kevin was okay with that, because why say something you already knew to be true? He didn't need verbal confirmation when it was blatantly written across Jean's face every time he looked into Kevin's eyes. 

Thea never loved him and he never loved her. He cared for her, surly, but _love_? He looked at Andrew and his heart fluttered in his chest and his limbs practically vibrated in happiness to have Andrew so close. 

He never felt anything like that when he looked at Thea. 

He never felt like that when he used to look at Riko either. 

When he looked at Riko, all he was reminded of was the beatings and his broken hand and the blood and his tears and the choked sounds of breath trying to enter his lungs. That was what Riko's love looked like to Kevin, and it was now that Kevin realized that'd it'd never been real love in the first place. 

"No," Kevin told the darkness, _told Andrew_ , "No, I don't." 

And then Neil burst in the front door. 

Kevin jumped a little, but Andrew didn't. Andrew also didn't bother to remove himself from the little entanglement of limbs they'd gotten themselves into. Kevin almost removed his hands himself but when Neil's eyes just glanced over them and he smiled, Kevin knew that it was okay. 

He'd grown used to it, the casual touches that both Andrew and Neil had began to share with him. Before, they didn't touch him unless absolutely necessary. Now, they stood so close to him when they were out together that Kevin could twitch his fingers and touch one of their hands. 

"I thought you two would be in bed by now," Neil commented as he kicked the door shut behind him and dropped his keys onto the kitchen counter as he passed it to the living room. 

He detoured and tugged his shoes off before flinging them through the open bedroom door. Kevin wanted to make an irritated comment but realized that he didn't have the energy to deal with Neil's smart ass right now. 

"I thought so, too, but His Majesty over here wanted to talk," Andrew told Neil but his eyes were trained on where Kevin's hand was laying on his bare wrist. 

It was a split second decision, something he did before he had enough time to properly think about it. Kevin's hand was already in motion when he realized that this was probably going to be a huge mistake on his part. 

He didn't stop his hand, though.

He was curious, really, to see what Andrew would do. 

His hand landed on top of Andrew's, slowly curling his fingers underneath Andrew's palm and tucking his thumb under Andrew's. 

Kevin waited for him to pull away, for him to yank his hand back and pull away from the couch all together. Instead, Andrew curled his own fingers and held onto Kevin's hand. 

Yeah. This is what heaven must feel like. 

Kevin debated the brief idea of pulled Andrew's palm up and to his lips. How badly he wanted to kiss the palm and each of his fingers. How badly Kevin wanted to remind Andrew of what those hands had done for him, what those hands meant to him. 

"Well," Neil walked to the couch and easily folded himself into the space next to Andrew, right next to Kevin's shoulder and head, "don't you two look cozy." 

"Jealous?" Andrew drawled before Kevin could think of the best way to reply. Honestly, those few words out of Neil's mouth had nearly sent him into a panic. He didn't- He didn't want to get in between. He wanted to be _apart_ of it, not a _wedge_ that tore the two of them apart. 

Kevin's hell brain had already latched onto the idea, though, had already begun convincing him that this was, in fact, _not_ okay and that this, in fact, _would_ break the two of them up if it went on any longer. 

"Are you guys-" Kevin stopped because he wasn't even sure what he was meant to be asking them. It was too late now, though, because they were both looking at him expectantly, "Is this okay? Is any of it," He gestured between them all, "okay?" 

Neil's eyebrows furrowed, his eyes shifting to Andrew then back to Kevin before he asked, "Is what okay, Kev?" 

"Us-" Kevin's cheeks were starting to turn red, but neither of them could see that because of the darkness of the room, "us touching like this? Casually?" 

Neil's confused face morphed into a bright smile as he laughed, "Of course it is, dummy. We wouldn't touch you if we didn't want to." 

"Yeah," Kevin's anxiety was still there, plunging a hole in his chest and ruining one of the last good things he had left in his life, "But, you're sure? This doesn't bother either of you?" 

Andrew cleared his throat and tightened his hand in Kevin's, "No, it doesn't. I-" Andrew stopped himself and cleared his throat again, "I like being able to touch you like this." 

Neil nodded his head in agreement, "I do as well." 

Kevin's anxiety was still there, but it was transferring it's energy to find something else to burden him with. 

Kevin's hand left Andrew's hair and he snorted a laugh at the small noise Andrew made in protest, giving his hand a little squeeze. 

"Yeah?" Kevin asked as he offered the hand to Neil. 

Neil nodded, murmuring a, "yeah," into the space between them. 

His hand met Kevin's and they curled around each other. Neil's hands were warm and calloused and Kevin could go on _and on_ about the differences between Andrew and Neil's hands for eons, but the important thing was that he liked how _both_ of them felt on his skin. 

When he was sure that Neil wasn't going to suddenly let go of him, Kevin pulled at his hand until Neil seemed to get the message. 

He stood up, his fingers still absently hooked between a few of Kevin's, "How do you want me?" 

Kevin wiggled more towards Andrew and the outside of the couch to create a space for Neil to squeeze into on the inside. 

"Oh, fuck yes," Neil muttered to himself before he climbed haphazardly over Kevin's outstretched body, dropping himself into the spot Kevin had created for him. Neil threw his arm across Kevin's bare stomach and hitched his thigh up over Kevin's leg as he tried to make himself more comfortable. 

Kevin's lifted the arm that currently wasn't occupied by Andrew's hand and wrapped it softly around Neil's middle. Neil hummed in approval and wiggled around some more until his face was smashed into Kevin's chest and he was humming in contentment, "This," He mumbled, "is the best place to sleep." 

Kevin couldn't agree more. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey..... hey.... how y'all doin'?
> 
> ok so i know i've been AWOL but LISTEN school just started and i've been busy with that and work and just everything else life has to bring yk
> 
> and this chapter has been sitting in the drafts for a bit for a couple of reasons; mainly because i wasn't quite sure how i felt about it when i wrote it
> 
> it's a long awaited (im so sorry ok) neil pov 
> 
> im still not sure how much i like it but yeee summer vackay u know whats abt to happen.... ~emotions~
> 
> anyways, sorry again, but love u guys and thank u for sticking by this fic 
> 
> hope u enjoy
> 
> p.s. this is sorta proof read sort not (?) so if there are any mistakes i apologize in advance

Neil woke up in the passenger seat of the Maserati. 

They were flying down some highway, the windows down and the music loud enough to be heard over the roar of the wind in their ears. Pastures of green and meadows of yellow and white flowers flew past them as Andrew drove them to their destination. 

He'd managed to rub the sleep from his eyes and pop his head up in enough time to see the North Carolina state sign as they passed it. 

He tried to swallow around the dryness of his mouth but it did little to solve the problem. He turned halfway around in his seat so he could see Kevin laid out in the back, water bottle tucked between his legs and head buried in a book. Neil snatched the water from him and turned back around in his seat before Kevin could protest. 

Kevin didn't seem to care as Neil gulped down the last of his water. When Neil turned back to give the water bottle back, Kevin's face was still inches from the pages and his fingers were flipping through the pages he hadn't read yet. 

Neil, still half awake, thought this action was slightly mesmerizing. 

Kevin, with his skin dappled in yellow sunlight. Kevin, with his shoes off and his fox blanket crumpled up in his lap. Kevin, with his face buried in a historic book and his hair whipping around in the wind. 

Kevin, at peace and more relaxed than Neil had seen him in months. 

It was a hard sight to look away from. 

Neil made himself though, only after he'd tucked the water bottle back in its original nesting place. 

He turned his eyes on Andrew after. 

Andrew was driving, one hand on the steering wheel and the other dangling out the window. Neil watched his hand dance through the wind in the side view mirror, watched how his fingers twirled and spun against the current. 

God, he'd been in this car for far too long. 

"How much longer?" He rasped, voice still thick from sleep. Kevin's warm-ish water had done little to help the dryness in his throat, but it had helped. 

Andrew's eyes were covered with a pair of dark sunglasses that made him look absolutely fucking magnificent, though Neil would never say that. 

"A couple more hours, at least," Andrew replied. 

Neil nodded. He hadn't been asleep for long then. 

A week ago, Allison had proposed a summer vacation. "First two weeks for the team, and the last three before practices start for yourself. You in or you out?" 

Of course Neil was in. 

This had been the girls' last year at Palmetto. He wouldn't miss this vacation for the world. 

Convincing Andrew and Kevin to come along had not been that hard, actually, and he hadn't expected it to be. All three of them needed to get out of their dark and gloomy dorm for a while. 

With practices withering to nothing and classes ending, the days had started to blur together. Neil was started to have nightmares again. Kevin could barely get out of bed. Andrew was getting quieter and quieter. All of this was boiling down to one huge meltdown that none of them were sure they were going to recover from. 

Neil imagined what Andrew's face would be like if he'd suddenly given up on the passenger seat and crawled into the back with Kevin. It seemed like a rather great idea to Neil. His eyes were starting to get heavy again. 

They hadn't much talked nor touched since that night on the couch and Neil was getting antsy. Kevin's question and their answer had felt like a floodgate opening between them. At least, to Neil it had. 

It'd felt like the exact moment Andrew had given Neil his explicit yes to anything, at anytime, no _'yes or no?'_ required. 

And _that_ was what was fucking them up. 

Now that they could touch, it seemed that none of them were able to. Something had cracked between them all and Neil did not know how to navigate it. He felt hollow inside for the first time in a long time and that was not something he wanted to waste his last summer vacation with the girls thinking about. 

The thing was, something had not just cracked between them three but it had also cracked between he and Andrew. 

And that scared Neil. 

He felt like he needed to ask before every touch now, even though Andrew had already told him a million times he didn't have to. They hadn't kissed in four days exactly and it made Neil feel like his insides were about to flop out of his stomach and onto the pristine interior of the car. Andrew would be so pissed if he got his internal organs all over the upholstery. 

Tentatively, he reached a hand towards Andrew's thigh. He was moving slow enough that Andrew could smack his hand away if he wanted to, but Neil made himself look away before he laid his palm down. He didn't want to see all the emotions warring on Andrew's face. He didn't want to see Andrew's perfectly crafted hand lift his and put it back in his own lap. 

If he witnessed that, (Andrew rejecting him, Andrew disgusted with his touch) it would be the final drop of the blade over their intertwined necks. Neil would not survive it. 

His palm landed on Andrew's thigh, the material of his jeans sun warm and rough under it. Neil's hand was stiff until he finally found the courage to look at Andrew. 

The blonde man looked more relaxed and comfortable than he had seconds before, his shoulders sagging and his legs spreading further apart. His breathing was calm and his hand wasn't white-knuckled on the steering wheel any more. His fingers that were outside the car had stopped moving. Now they were curled loosely around each other and were letting the wind flow freely through them. 

Neil's hand relaxed, and then his whole arm relaxed, and then this whole entire body just seemed to melt into the passenger seat. 

It was one simple touch, but it had both of their bodies wilting in sighs of relief. 

Just like that, Neil felt like everything was going to be okay again. They were going to get over this and they were going to thrive, God dammit. 

He allowed himself to sink further into his seat, eyes half lidded and chest near to bursting. He glanced back to find Kevin still hidden in his book, his large limbs squished into the backseat so elegantly that only he could have been the one to do it. Neil was still very tempted to crawl into the back seat with him, but that would mean letting go of Andrew and that was absolutely not something he was willing to give up at the moment. 

Kevin muttered, "Staring," to the pages of his book. Neil wished he had the decency to blush. 

"What are you reading?" He asked. 

" _The Iliad_ ," Kevin shrugged, flipping the book to the front so he could look at the cover before flipping it back open. 

Andrew snorted, "You've read that a least a hundred times." 

"And I'll read it a hundred times more," Kevin said back, eyes already flitting over the page like he'd forgotten about the conversation and was ready for the car to dive back into it's not-so-silent silence. 

Neil forced himself to look away. 

Kevin was not doing good. 

Neil hadn't realized how bad until it became evident that Kevin was not eating properly. 

His shirts were beginning to sag on his frame. He needed a belt to hold his jeans up. His cheekbones became sharper and his eyes became hollow bruise-like things inlaid with emeralds. His wrists bones were pointer and his ribs... God, Neil could count them if he wanted to. 

They were faint hills over Kevin's sides now but if he sucked in too much air or stretched his whole body, the hills became mountains and made Neil want to cry. 

Kevin was starting to sleep in late, not leaving his bed until well after the sun had risen and Neil and Andrew had awoken. He'd decline offers to hang out with the team to spend nights huddled on their couch with his blanket and a book or a TV show. 

Of course, because Neil was Neil and Andrew was Andrew, they sat next to him like two stone gargoyles poised to attack anything that threatened their place of worship. 

Dragging him to that night at the girls' dorm had been hell, but both he and Andrew had managed to shove a clean shirt over Kevin's head and make him brush his teeth before they went. 

Watching them leave together hadn't bugged Neil as much as it should have. In the end, he was just happy that both of them had showed and that both of them had somewhat made an effort to be there, with the team (with _him_ ). 

Neil couldn't tell you why he'd brushed his fingers over Kevin's leg as he'd walked by. It was just something that happened, sometimes. A small thing would gather in the bottom of his stomach and urge him to reach out for Kevin in any way he possibly could. 

If Neil was an honest creature, which he usually was these days, he'd tell you that touching Kevin felt just as good as touching Andrew. He figured if he'd touched them both at the same time his brain would short-circuit or something and he'd die from the pure electricity flowing up and down his spine. 

It made him happy, to touch. It made others happy when he did so, as well. That was all that mattered. 

Allison had given him a look for the rest of the night but he ignored her. Even if he wanted to explain it to her (and he did), he wouldn't have been able to find the right words to say. He could barely explain his feelings for Andrew without stuttering or making a complete fool of himself. Trying to explain his feelings for them both, together, at the same time? 

Neil's brain would have shut down and they'd have to reboot him like some sort of virus-infected computer.

Coming home to a dark dorm room was normal, but seeing the figures huddled near the couch wasn't. Kevin, for the first time in weeks, was not laying by himself in his bed. He was laying on the couch with Andrew's fingers playing across his bare chest and his eyes half lidded in the starlight. 

Neil had watched for a moment as Andrew's fingers fluttered and weaved through the dim light, tracing an unknown pattern on a clump of scars in the middle of Kevin's chest. Neil had seen them plenty of times, but he did not know where they had come from. 

He didn't want to know where they had come from. 

Inserting himself in the liminal space Andrew and Kevin had created around themselves had been surprisingly easy. 

And then Kevin had offered his hand and Neil had taken it and the world was suddenly spinning way too fast on it's axis. 

Waking up to Kevin's heartbeat in one ear and Andrew's humming in the kitchen as he made breakfast made white hot fuzzies fill Neil's lungs and throat. He'd felt like molten gold inside, scalding and burning and washing over everything in sight. He felt like if he had to untangle himself from Kevin, they'd both be left with scorch marks on the places they'd touched each other. 

After that, things went downhill even faster than Neil could imagine and none of them had the strength to grab the steering wheel and swerve them back into their lane. They were a car careening over the median and into on coming traffic. A collision was inevitable. 

The Maserati trudged on for another hour or two before Kevin demanded a pee break and a new water bottle. Andrew sighed heavily through his nose but obliged him, swerving smoothly through the lanes of traffic towards an upcoming exit. 

It was unbelievably sexy, and he would have told Andrew so if Kevin hadn't been less than two feet away from them. 

Neil himself needed a break. His legs felt stiff and so did parts of his body that he'd forgotten had even existed. He needed a good stretch, some snacks, and maybe a kiss. 

Definitely a kiss. 

Four days was too long. 

Andrew parked the car easily, switching the engine off and shooing at them with his hands. 

"Go," He muttered, "hurry up." 

Kevin huffed as if he was annoyed, but didn't say anything as he slid out of the back seat and into the light of day. 

During the summer, everything always felt still. The wind, the trees, the people. It was like the season had ushered in it's own sort of calming air and forced people to take a few minutes to slow down and enjoy what the world was offering them. 

During the days when he and his mother were running, it had never felt like this. 

It had felt like anxiety and sweat dripping down the middle of his back. It tasted like gas station ice cream bars and red Gatorade. It was stuffy and all consuming, irritating. He fought more with his mother during the summer. He rebelled against her more in the summer. 

Now, it made Neil feel syrupy slow and bone tired, like he could sleep for nine days curled around his boyfriend, tangled in their sheets. 

God, that sounded _so_ nice right now. 

Neil slid out of the car and immediately lifted his hands above his head in a stretch that had the bones in his back popping. Kevin managed a disgusted face and an, "ew," before he turned to head towards the gas station. 

Neil took his time as he took in his surroundings and felt the stillness in the air. Everything felt thick and warm, sun-glazed and shiver-inducing. 

He breathed in deeply. He could smell the wildflowers growing along the curb behind the gas station, could smell the gasoline. His mind flashed with the burnt out hull of a car and charred bones. He took another deep breathe, held those images in his mind for only a moment longer, and then let them go into the soft breeze. 

Neil wanted his kiss now. 

He dropped himself back into the passenger seat and closed the door behind him, instantly leaning himself over the console to get at Andrew. 

"Hi," He said, all dopey smile and fleeting happiness. He hadn't felt this good in fucking _days_ and god dammit he wanted to share it with the person he loved. 

Andrew raised an eyebrow at him but seemed to get the message, bringing both his hands up to frame Neil's face. He looked into his eyes for a moment and then, to Neil's unexpected surprise, kissed his nose. 

Neil tried, but he couldn't help it. The burst of giggles that flowed through him was pouring out of his mouth before he could stop it. Andrew was laughing too, just as sun drunk on summer as Neil was.

"God," Neil breathed, "you're so stupid." 

"No, I think that's you."

"Fine, we're both stupid." Neil amended. 

"Stupid enough for each other, maybe," Andrew suggested. 

Neil leaned forward again, lips mere inches from Andrew's own, "Only for each other," he whispered and then they were kissing. 

It was slow and warm and soft. Andrew hadn't kissed him like this in a long, long time and Neil was quite literally overflowing with pure joy. Their tongues were intertwining and moving together in a way that had taken them months of _yes or no's_ to perfect. 

When Andrew finally let him go, Neil was blissed out and possibly glowing. His hands were shaking violently, but then again, so was his entire body. That kiss had ignited something in Neil's bones and Neil would have done it, right then and there, he would have muttered those three little words if he could of mustered enough strength to voice them.

Andrew knew, however, because he always knew. Maybe it was the way Neil's eyes were looking at him or maybe it was the way Neil was still hovering in his space to see if there was a chance of getting another kiss. Whatever it was, Andrew knew, because he leaned forward and pecked Neil three times on the mouth, one right after the other. 

"If you guys were going to make out," Kevin said as he slid back into his seat, "you should have told me. I would have bought popcorn so I could watch the show." 

Neil turned his head to glare at Kevin with his bags of snacks while Andrew just burst out laughing right next to him. 

"Ah," Andrew sighed, "I'm getting delirious." 

"Clearly you are if you think Kevin's jokes are funny," Neil said to him.

They both ignored Kevin's muttered protest of, "Hey!"

"Want to switch?" Neil asked him, still leaned over the console on both his elbows and still inches from Andrew's face. He wanted another kiss, but Kevin was in the car now and Neil's dick was a wily one when it came to situations like this. 

With Kevin... _watching_ and Andrew's tongue half way down his throat, there was no telling what could set him off. 

Andrew seemed to know this, but kissed him again anyways. 

It was short and sweet and to the point, a simple _no_ passing unsaid between them. 

Neil nodded and leaned back in his seat, wondering if now was the time to mention that he would like the schedule another cuddle session with Kevin in the middle asap. 

They started driving again and Neil decided that he and Andrew needed to have a talk. One of those talks that made both of them vaguely uncomfortable and could only be voiced when both of them were holding cigarettes and far far away from other living people. 

Neil reached over and tapped out _we need to talk_ in morse code on Andrew's thigh. 

This was not their usual way of communicating, but if someone was in their vicinity that clearly would ask about the Russian or the German, then they used code. It was slow and archaic but it made Neil feel a little like a spy, which made him all giddy. 

He watched Andrew's hands adjust themselves on the steering wheel.

His fingers tapped _about?_

Neil tapped, _Kevin._

"That's a horrible movie," Andrew said out loud. 

"What?" Kevin asked from the back, mouthful of gummy bears. 

_At least he's eating,_ Neil thought. 

"Nothing," He and Andrew said in unison. 

Hours passed by in a blur, Neil's mind going over his words and what he wanted to say to Andrew. What he wanted to ask him. 

He knew that this type of conversation was going to come along someday, but right now, it seemed too soon. 

It had been nearly three whole months since Kevin had tried to kill himself and everyone was still healing. Things were starting to go back to normal, yes, but they'd never be exactly the same. There would always be that thread of doubt in the back of his brain that Kevin was not better, that he was not recovering, and that he was going to come home one day to blood on the floor and Kevin laying dead in the middle of it. 

_Andrew would never survive it,_ Neil thought, _we'd never survive it._

The lines between them, between all three of them, were beginning to blur and shift and change in a way that Neil couldn't make sense of. _A platonic marriage,_ Andrew had told him, _that's what Bee called us._

Neil forced himself to sort each feeling he felt about Kevin into categories, platonic and romantic. 

The results scared him. 

Talking to Andrew would either ruin everything or- or _fuck,_ he doesn't know. Right now, Andrew and Kevin were moving around each other like two nuclear reactors that were about to go off. If they touched then the explosion would kill everything in the blast zone, their feelings and Neil's included. 

Neil sighed heavily through his nose and stared at the beach as it flew past his window. They were minutes away now. Neil felt like he'd started the countdown timer on a bomb and was sitting there as he watched it run out. The bomb itself was packed with trauma and memories and past relationships so much that it was nearly spilling onto Neil's lap. If this thing exploded, no one would ever be the same again. 

_They_ would never be the same, not with each other and definitely not with the others. 

Neil's mind came back into focus as the road under the Maserati changed from asphalt to gravel. He sat up in his seat as Andrew parked next to Allison's bright pink monstrosity (Neil thought it was cute, but he'd never say that aloud). 

They ended up with the room that was below the main level of the house. Allison had purposely shoved Kevin in the only room on the main level that was right across from the stairway that led down to theirs. 

"There's an extra bed built into the bed frame of your bed," Allison told him as she took him around the beachfront villa, her arm linked through his, "in case, you know, any emergency sleepovers happen." 

Neil kinda loved her for it, but he didn't say that out loud. 

He tapped her three times on the wrist instead and she smiled at him and tapped back, though it was unclear whether she knew what he meant or not. 

The villa was nice. With large windows going up and down the wall that faced the ocean and a big enough living room and kitchen to fit at least three of their dorm rooms inside and three upper levels, it was plenty big enough to house a team of vacationing Exy players for two weeks. 

Nicky announced they were having a bonfire that night as he entered the house, Aaron, Erik, and Katelyn not far behind. Their arms were full of alcohol and supplies. 

Neil looked in the bags as they sat them on the kitchen counter and wondered briefly if Nicky had decided to buy the whole liquor store he'd stopped at on his way here. With the way the team drank, it probably wouldn't last them the week. 

After everyone had eventually arrived and gotten settled in their rooms, Neil found himself leaning over the railing on the balcony. The sun was setting and orange and yellow flooded over the horizon and the sea. The waves lapped at the shore below him and in the distance, Neil could hear Nicky's laugh as he and most of the team were starting to get the bonfire underway. 

Andrew silently joined him, pack of cigarettes in one hand and his drink in the other. 

Neil got flashbacks to a cabin two years and two glasses filled with whiskey. Neil smelled fire in the air and heard the ocean in his ears but nothing swam up from his mind to attack him. 

He wondered when he'd finally let go of his mother. He wondered when he'd finally stopped dreaming about a burning car and sand mixed with soot stuck under his fingernails. 

His shivered a little and took the cigarette that was offered. 

"Kev's still inside," Andrew told him, "he'll be out here soon, though. We can have this conversation now or we can wait until everyone's gone to sleep." 

Neil snorted and leaned forward to light his cigarette in the flame Andrew was offering, "I give us at least ten minutes by ourselves before Kevin sneaks down the stairs." 

Andrew lit his own cigarette and sighed on the exhale, smoke billowing out of his nose and mouth, "So here, then." 

"Unless you prefer somewhere else?" Neil asked. He took a drag of his cigarette and Andrew just stared at him as the smoke poured out of his mouth. 

"We'll switch languages if we need too," Andrew told him and Neil nodded in agreement.

They were quiet as they smoked, Andrew waiting for Neil to gather his thoughts. Neil almost wished that Andrew would speak first. He had no idea what to say. 

"So," He started, "Kevin." 

Andrew stared at him blankly, offering no help. 

When Neil offered up nothing else, Andrew sighed heavily and ashed his cigarette over the side of the balcony, "I don't know why we try to have these conversations when both of us are so shit at expressing our emotions."

Neil laughed a little, "Let's not beat around the bush then, yeah?" 

Andrew nodded his agreement, "We both know what this about, so ask me." 

Neil sighed heavily and snatched the drink from Andrew's hand, downing it all in one gulp. He sighed again when the whiskey did little to curb his nerves and instead inhaled a little bit of his cigarette. He let the smoke curl slowly out of his mouth and watched as it disappeared into nothing into the air about him. 

"Do you ever think about-" Neil did not know how to say this at all, but he was going to try, "God- fuck, I don't know, Andrew." Maybe he wasn't. 

"Are you asking me if I ever think about Kevin in general or if I think about him-" 

"I'm asking you if you ever think about more with Kevin," Neil blurts out. 

Andrew sighed and ashed his cigarette again. Someone laughed down on the beach. The sound shouldn't have made Neil feel so out of place, but it did. 

"More what?" Andrew asked through a mouthful of smoke. 

Neil gave his boyfriend a dead look, "You know what the fuck I mean, Andrew." 

Andrew was staring down at the beach where the team had amassed, a glowing fire growing in the middle of the circle they'd made. The porch light cast Andrew in a half shadow and Neil couldn't read his facial expression. 

It was making Neil anxious. 

Kevin was still inside somewhere, possibly drinking, possibly eavesdropping. 

Neil's paranoia was flaring up because of his anxiety and that was never good for anyone. 

"I do," Andrew finally told him. 

"You know what I'm talking about or you think about more with Kevin?" Neil questioned. His cigarette was nearly gone now and as he dropped it into Andrew's empty glass, he had to resist the urge to light up another. 

"Both," Andrew finally answered, doing the same with his own finished cigarette. 

"And?" Neil pressed, setting the empty glass onto the porch railing between where they were leaning. 

Andrew turned to face Neil, one elbow still on the railing, his hand reaching out to lay on one of Neil's. 

"And I know no matter what he thinks," Andrew sniffed, "he's not ready." 

The cold truth was like ice as it slipped down Neil's spine. He knew that already, but it was still hard to hear. 

"Who's he and should I be worried?" Kevin asked as he slipped out of the sliding glass door that connected to the kitchen. Neil nearly jumped out of his skin, but managed to keep his composure and flash a brilliant smile at him. 

"Hey," Neil said, reaching out a hand towards Kevin, "ready to go down?" 

Kevin furrowed his brows but Andrew must have given him a look because his questions seemed to disappear as he smiled back at Neil, "I got- uh, I got one blanket for us to sit on- if that's okay? I could go inside and get another if you guys wanted to sit by yourselv-" 

"Shut up," Andrew muttered, and grabbed Kevin's hand as he brushed past him, pulling him towards the walkway that led down to the beach. 

Through the dim porch light and the nearly faded sun rays, Neil could clearly see the blush that rose to Kevin's cheeks as Andrew led him away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my tumblr is @/kevindazes 
> 
> send me an ask or a message if u want bb
> 
> once again, luv u guys and thank u for reading !!!! <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so short and so poorly thrown together pls i am so fucking sorry 
> 
> I know its been a while and trust me I never meant for it to be
> 
> like i genuinely feel so bad for going all these months without updating
> 
> but hello this chapter is so unworthy and not proof read am im SORRY

It'd been fifteen minutes since everyone had disappeared into their own rooms and Kevin was debating. 

He stood by himself in the middle of his assigned room, his bag still slung over his shoulder. He hadn't bothered to turn the light on nor had he bothered to even take his shoes off and make himself feel at home. 

Staring at the pristine make up of the bed, he wondered if it was even worth the energy to crawl into it. He knew that he'd just wake up in an hour covered in sweat and racing to the bathroom to puke his guts up for the fourth time that day. 

His anxiety felt like it was eating him alive these days, working its way from his core outwards. He could barely stand in this room by himself without his hands shaking and his stomach turning. 

He was still standing there, nineteen minutes later when Andrew peeked his head into the cracked door. 

"Kevin," He said softly, trying not to scare the man too much. It didn't work, Kevin still nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of his voice. "You coming?" 

Kevin furrowed his brows in confusion as he looked at Andrew and tightened his grip on the strap of his bag, "What?"

Andrew sighed and slipped into Kevin's room all the way, softly closing the door behind him so they were trapped in their own private bubble. There were nosy people in this house that could walk by at any minute and spy on them. Andrew didn't want everyone on the team to know even though he knew they'd all figure it out eventually. Some of them had already, but they knew to keep their mouth shut. 

"Are you coming downstairs?" Andrew asked, hands pressed between his back and the door as he leaned against it. Kevin shifted on his feet as he looked anywhere but Andrew's face, knowing that the blonde man was taking in his uncomfortable stance. 

"I d-don't- uh- I don't want to interrupt anything-" Kevin tried but earned nothing but a snort of amusement in reply. 

"Shut up," Andrew shook his head and Kevin did as he was told. 

He stood there for a minute and refused to look at Andrew, but then Andrew started walking toward him and Kevin couldn't help but look. 

They hadn't talked or touched much since that night on the couch and that made Kevin nervous. He was never nervous around Andrew, not really. It almost felt wrong to be so nervous around the man, seeing as he'd seen all the worse bits of Kevin and was still here. 

Kevin couldn't help it, though. That night there had been a shift, a monumental shift in their dynamic and Kevin didn't know how to handle that without having a small mental breakdown. 

Andrew finally reached him and Kevin tried not to think too much about how little space was between them. He knew that Andrew knew exactly how close he was and Kevin knew that Andrew knew Kevin wouldn't say anything about it. 

Kevin stood uncomfortably still as Andrew's hands came up to pry Kevin's fingers slowly from the strap of his bag so he could take it off Kevin's shoulder and place on his own. 

The air around them felt heavy in a way it always did when they were by themselves and close like this. Kevin tried to ignore it, tried to let his unfocused gaze fall on the wall behind Andrew's head, but his brain wouldn't allow him. His item of worship was standing less than six inches in front of him and Kevin couldn't look away even if he tried. 

When Andrew finally got Kevin's bag from him, he looked up into Kevin's eyes and let the question float between them wordlessly. 

Yes or no? 

Kevin nodded and Andrew wrapped his hand around a couple of Kevin's fingers on his right hand before tugging him towards the closed door. 

He followed the blonde wordlessly, allowed him to open the door and drag him across the hall towards the other bedroom. 

Something in Kevin told him that he should refuse, that he should pull away and back to his room. He was an adult. He was an adult who could sleep by himself and take care of himself and fuck-

Kevin couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't bring himself to refuse Andrew like that. 

He led Kevin down the stairs and Kevin let him. 

Neil was already buried in the sheets of their bed, the lamp of the nightstand casting a faded orange glow over the sleepy little smile on his face, "I made it up for you," he muttered and pulled a hand out from under the blankets to gesture towards the bed on the floor next to theirs. 

Kevin's fingers tightened slightly on Andrew's fingers and neither of them wanted to let go yet, so he followed Andrew around like a child as Andrew set his bag down in the corner of their room next to the dresser. 

"We'll unpack your things tomorrow, yeah?" Andrew told him and Kevin gave him a blank nod as he slowly kicked off his shoes. 

When both Andrew and Kevin were finally settled, Neil leaned over the side of the bed and smiled down at him, "Goodnight, Kev, wake us up if you need anything." 

And then he flicked the light off. 

The darkness did nothing to help Kevin's nerves and he was turning over in his bed ever few minutes in an attempt to make himself comfortable enough to shut his eyes. 

He only calmed down when a hand flung itself off the side of the bed and buried itself in his hair. 

Kevin sighed and let himself enjoy the touch, closing his eyes. 

The next couple of days were a whirlwind of sightseeing and swimming and drinking and bonfires. 

Neil dragged half the team on runs every morning. Of course, Andrew refused and watched half awake from the bed as the two got ready at the ass crack of dawn. Neil gave him a forehead kiss before they left. Kevin settled for a small wave before they walked up the stairs and out of Andrew's sight.

When Kevin wasn't with Neil and Andrew, he was with the girls on the beach. They let him hold the bucket as they collected seashells and other cool things they'd found in the sand. 

Walking around most of the time in nothing but a pair of shorts or swim trunks was somewhat freeing to Kevin. He felt- well, he felt good. His skin was warm and flushed from the heat. His hair was tousled and free flowing around his head, like a halo that had grown lighter the more days he spent outside in the sun. The days were long and everyone was smiling and drunk and happy and Kevin felt like he could stay here forever. 

He still woke up sometimes in the night, shaking so bad and rushing to the toilet to dry heave. Neil had forced him into the tub after every time, turning the cold water on to cool his heated skin and shock him into calming down. 

His food situation wasn't improving either. He felt like they could all see it in the way his collarbones were more prominent and how his hipbones and ribs were creating faint lines across his skin. He tried, God knows he tried, but nothing stayed down. He couldn't even drink water without his body rebelling against him slightly. 

In the middle of their stay, Kevin had nearly blacked out on one their runs and Andrew forbade him from going on them for the rest of the trip. Kevin protested of course, but that didn't matter. 

Once Neil pulled himself out of bed every morning after that, Kevin would haul himself up onto the bed with Andrew and let himself fall asleep for a couple more hours. 

Neither of them seemed to mind so they never spoke about it. 

On one of the last days of their vacation, Allison grabbed ahold of Kevin and plopped him in a chair in the bathroom of her room. Dan sat on the lip of the tub while Renee sat on the floor between her legs with the bucket of their seashells. 

"I'm sick of looking at this mop on your head," Was all Allison said before she broke out her scissors and clippers. 

"Okay," Kevin mumbled, absentmindedly watching Dan braid Renee's hair in mirror he was facing. Renee was going through their seashells and organizing them. 

"I think," Renee started as she inspected a shell, "we should figure out how to make bracelets or necklaces or something with these." 

"Matching bestie necklaces?" Allison smirked, "I'm in." 

Kevin smiled at Renee when she glanced up from her work to look at him in the mirror. She nodded and went back to organizing. 

Music mixed with laughter was floating through the open bathroom window, a small breeze flowing and fluttering the curtains. Kevin felt- He felt. That was it. He felt. 

So so much. 

This- This right here was the happiest he'd felt in a while and there was no words to describe it. He could avoid and ignore all the bad stuff that was happening if he just sat here for a little while longer with Allison hands in his hair and Dan's soft humming and the shouts of their teammates outside the window. 

"So," Allison began, "You and Andrew and Neil, huh?" 

Kevin caught the disapproving look Renee shot Allison in the mirror. 

"What?" Allison scoffed as she continued her work, "It was just a question." 

"It's none of our business, Allison." Renee chided. 

Dan nodded in agreement, her eyes never leaving her fingers as they twisted Renee's locks into an intricate design. 

A blush had risen to Kevin's cheeks and he cast his eyes downwards to study the black and white tiles of the bathroom. He really didn't know what to say. 

"If you're asking if we're all together, then no." He finally said and Allison's nose scrunched up in confusion. 

"Really?" She asked, "you sleep in there room every night and-" 

"Allison," Dan scolded this time, eyes finally leaving Renee's hair as she looked up at the blonde. 

"It's okay, Dan," Kevin muttered, "I sleep in their room because of the nightmares. I- uh- They don't like for me to be by myself in case- in case- you know-" 

"It's okay, Kev," Renee muttered, thank god, "you don't have to explain anything to anyone." 

"I know," Kevin sighed, rubbing at one of his eyes tiredly and yawning, "but Betsy says it's good to talk to other people about it, not just Andrew and Neil." 

"Okay," Renee said simply and pushed the bucket of seashells away, pulling her knees to her chest as her eyes met Kevin's in the mirror and gave him her undivided attention, "go ahead, we're listening."

Kevin sighed again and picked at a loose thread on his shorts so he wouldn't have to look at any of them, "It's hard, you know, like really fucking hard to exist every day with all this shit in my head. After-" Kevin took a breath, "after what happened, they've barely let me off by myself and when I have been by myself it's only been for a hand full of minutes. In fact, I've been missing for awhile now, I have no doubt one of them will wonder there way up here in a few minutes to make sure I'm not doing something dumb."

Allison weaved a hand through his hair as she played with it in the mirror, looking it over before she decided she needed to fix it up more. Kevin chuckled to himself and closed his eyes. He still had all of the girls attention and he was already running out of words to say. It was hard, talking like this, admitting there was something wrong with him. 

"I know I'm not hiding it all that well," He muttered and rolled his eyes at the scoff Dan let out, "okay, I'm not hiding it at all. I can't sleep and I can't eat properly without my body rejecting it and I can't properly function without someone telling me what to do. The anxiety, it's- it's eating me alive and I can't stop it. No matter what I'm doing it's ever present in the back of my skull. I can't stop it and I can't make it go away." 

Allison must have decided she was done with his hair, because she brushed the hair off his shoulders lightly and leaned down to wrap her arms around his neck and watch him in the mirror. 

He brought a hand up to hold onto one of hers, tilting his head to the side to lean against hers. 

"You guys help," Kevin muttered into the quiet that had filled the bathroom as they listened, "you guys help a lot. I-" Kevin swallowed and grasped Allison's hand tighter, "I know I don't show it and I don't say it but I- I do love you guys. All of you. After- after everything that happened I felt so unbelievably guilty. It was a selfish act. I was being selfish and I still hate myself for it." 

"Kevin-" Dan started but Kevin hushed her. 

"It's okay, Dan. I promise it's okay. I just- I'd apologize but I know that it'll never be enough." He said and Allison sighed in his ear. 

Neil's head popped into the bathroom then, looking between the four of them and Kevin tried not to smile when his eyes took in the way Allison was wrapped around his neck. 

"Andrew's getting antsy," He muttered and Kevin huffed a sigh. 

"I've barely been gone an hour," Kevin replied, not making any move to pull out of Allison's embrace. 

Neil shrugged, "You know how he gets." 

Kevin sighed again, like it was a great pain to be cared for by such a possessive man. Allison chuckled and her head to press a kiss to Kevin's temple before she let him up. 

"Alright, off you go," Allison patted his shoulder. 

Kevin got out of the chair and began to follow Neil out of the bathroom but was stopped when someone grabbed his wrist. He turned to find Dan holding onto him. 

"Wanna help us make dinner tonight? See if that helps with the-" She said and but was cut off when Kevin smiled and nodded at her. 

"Yeah, I'd like that," and then he pulled out of her grip and continued his way out of the bedroom. 

Andrew was splayed out on a lawn chair under a shaded area of the back porch, sunglasses perched on his nose. He was drinking some fruity drink that looked out of place in his hands. He was off by himself so he'd taken his arm bands off because fuck, was it fucking hot. 

He looked so natural and at peace sitting there by himself, watching the wrestling match that was currently taking place in the pool below him. 

His eyes found Kevin's approaching form and even with the sunglasses, Kevin could tell he was mentally searching Kevin's body for any signs of harm. 

"Allison was cutting my hair," Kevin offered but Andrew just tsked at him. 

Kevin sat down on the chair next to him and Andrew reached out with the hand that wasn't holding his drink to run a hand through his fresh cut. Andrew hummed, which Kevin took as a sign of approval. 

The days seemed to pass slower after that.

Kevin would wake up in the mornings to Neil pulling on his running shorts, whispering a quiet good morning to him before Kevin crawled up into bed beside Andrew. 

The more this happened, the closer the two seemed to gravitate towards one another. By the time Neil was ready to leave, Andrew and Kevin were practically wrapped around each other and well on their way to a few more hours of sleep. 

His nightmares were still there, of course, but those few hours he spent next to Andrew he slept as soundlessly and as peacefully as someone like him could. 

Once Neil was back, he'd shower and then carefully wake both of them up in time for breakfast. Kevin would groggily make his way up the steps and leave the two of them behind to have some alone time. He felt bad most of time, like he was intruding on their vacation. They were a couple for fucks sake and Kevin felt like he was getting in the way of- you know. 

It didn't seem to bother either of them though, seeing as as soon as Andrew was awake enough to deal with the others they were both in the kitchen sipping their coffee as they watched Kevin and one of the girls cook breakfast for the team.

Cooking had helped Kevin a little. He was stuck to eating small portions because he wasn't used to eat all that much and would end up throwing it back up if he ate too much. It also helped that none of them left the table until Kevin finished. They distracted him the best they could as they all ate, keeping the conversation going and interesting enough that Kevin barely thought about the food he was putting into his body. 

If he didn't think about it then he could keep it down. 

After breakfast it was lounging in the sun or splashing around in the pool or sitting with the girls in the shade of the porch as they made jewelry out of the seashells. Sometimes it was sitting on the beach with his toes halfway buried in the sand as he watched the waves crash over and over again against the shore. 

Matt and Aaron had built a sand castle a nearly every day they'd been there and Kevin liked to watch as the sea swelled up and took them apart piece by piece until there was nothing left. 

The longer the days got and the more routine it all became, the calmer Kevin found himself, the quieter he became. 

It was peaceful. 

Going back home felt like a death sentence. 

The last day of their beach vacation was coming fast and Kevin wasn't sure he'd be able to go back to the dark depths of Columbia without tucking himself into a corner and rotting away. 

This was his last summer before his last year at Palmetto and fuck- fuck, he didn't want to die before he got to see himself to the end. 

He had to see himself to the end or else all his hard work would be for nothing at all. 

That realization had hit him a little too hard and he had sat on the beach for hours just staring at the waves and wondering on earth he was going to survive when his own brain was rebelling against him. 

It was well past sun down by the time Neil came to collect him. 

Kevin hadn't moved in hours and his joints felt stiff as he allowed Neil to haul him up and out of the sand. 

"God, you're covered," Neil chided, "you'll have to take a shower before bed." 

"I know," Kevin muttered. 

"The water's freezing," Neil added as he tugged at Kevin's hand to pull him up towards the house. 

"I know," Kevin muttered again. 

"Then why didn't you moved out of it when the tide started to rise?" 

"I wanted to feel something." 

Neil didn't reply to this but his hand tensed in Kevin's. 

Kevin stopped them both before Neil could take him back inside. 

Neil turned and looked at him, "Andrew's waiting." 

"I want to graduate," Kevin said and it felt like his heartrate was slowing down. It felt like a confession that shouldn't have been a secret. 

But it was. It was. 

Or at least to Kevin, it felt like it was. 

He didn't know anymore. 

When Neil just looked at him Kevin sighed and pulled Neil close. Neil didn't back away, so Kevin leaned their foreheads together and closed his eyes, thumb running over Neil's knuckles.

"You'll help me, won't you?" He said quietly, "you'll help me survive long enough to see myself graduate?" 

"Oh, Kev," Neil sighed. 

Everything after that seemed so slow. 

Neil led him through the house and into their room. Andrew was already in bed, buried under the blankets and waiting for them both. 

"Go shower," Neil told him and Kevin did as he was told. 

When he got out, there was a pair of pajama bottoms, a shirt, and a pair of socks sitting on the bathroom counter next to his toothbrush and toothpaste. 

He tried to avoid his reflection but it was hard. 

If he allowed himself a glimpse he knew that he'd probably stand there all night just staring, wondering. 

Kevin didn't know how he let himself get this bad. He didn't know how to fix it either. 

He didn't know anything but what they told him to do. 

He forced himself to dry himself off and not linger too much before he got dressed. He brushed his teeth and then he turned the light off and opened the door. 

Neil and Andrew were pressed against each other near the wall. The lamp was on. 

Neil, half asleep and wanting to feel Kevin's skin beneath his fingers, patted the bed to indicate that Kevin sleep with them tonight. 

Kevin stood there for a second and tried to tell himself it meant nothing but he knew it meant everything. 

He slept through the whole night for the first time in a while. When Neil got up in the morning for his run, Andrew simply yanked Kevin into Neil abandoned space and fell right back asleep. 

If Kevin thought about it, he figured he felt content. Yeah, that was the word. 

Content.

Two days later, they were back in the car and on their way back home. 

Each of the girls had nearly suffocated him when they jumped on him all at once when they were saying goodbye. 

Dan had forced Matt to take pictures of this and immediately after Allison had gotten her hands on Kevin's phone and made it his home screen. He didn't mind. 

The picture itself showed Kevin in the middle of Dan and Allison as each of them kissed his cheeks while Renee was wrapped around his middle. Nicky had snuck up behind them and gave Kevin bunny ears. 

Kevin knew that Matt would print it out and put on the wall in the stadium in no time. 

About half way through the trip home, Neil had gotten tired of the front seat apparently and nearly got cursed out by Andrew about scuffing the interior as he climbed over the middle compartment to drop himself heavily onto Kevin's lap. 

"Oof-" Kevin muttered as Neil basically smothered him. 

"Shut up, I'm napping," Neil slapped him lightly on the chest before he promptly passed out. 

Kevin just rolled his eyes and propped his book on Neil's shoulder so he could read. 

They spent the rest of the ride like this, all the way to the house in Columbia. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not edited but hey chapter 8 is here!! lol hi btw
> 
> shoutout to @/essence-29 on tumblr!! thank you for your kind words and reminding me how much i love writing and writing this story in particular <3 
> 
> i know its short but next chapter will most likely be in either andrew's or neil's pov so !! 
> 
> anyways, thank you as always be for reading

Kevin had been right.

Columbia was making him rot. 

He was sleeping so much that his brain was beginning to slow. It took him minutes to comprehend what was being said to him. It took him hours to remember things that happened right in front of his face. 

His anxiety was gone and in its place was a hollowness that felt like it was swallowing up everything that made him him. He barely even talked anymore. 

For his own sanity, he pretended like he couldn't see the hurt and the worry in Neil's eyes every time he looked at him. He pretended like Andrew wasn't hovering around him, on his heels every time he decided to leave the bedroom. He pretended so that it wouldn't hurt so bad. 

It was easier to destroy himself when he pretended that they didn't care for him. 

It'd been all of a week since the beach trip and Kevin had stopped eating again. It wasn't like he was trying to starve himself, he just couldn't be bothered to wander his way down the stairs and to the kitchen to make himself something. His stomach rebelled against him every time he put something in his mouth and he got so tired of the feeling of his stomach roiling that he just gave up. 

He was wasting away. Truly fucking wasting away into nothing and he was letting himself because it took too much effort to even lift a granola bar to his mouth anymore. 

He rarely even left the bed to piss. 

It was sad, it was so fucking sad and Kevin knew this. He knew how pathetically depressed and fucked up he was and he didn't care. He couldn't care. He didn't have anything left of himself to care about. 

Andrew rarely spoke to him, but Neil babbled to his lifeless form on the bed as he ambled around the room. He didn't know which he preferred. 

At night, when it was just the three of them, Andrew would tuck Kevin in the middle and press a hand to his ribs. It made Kevin self conscious of how skinny he was getting for all of three seconds before he realized that he didn't even have the energy to give a fuck about what he looked like anymore. Neil had to drag him out of bed every two days to shower, had to plop Kevin down in the tub like he was a five year old and wash Kevin's body for him. 

It was embarrassing on a level that Kevin couldn't even fathom. 

Another week passed. Kevin realized faintly that it'd been three whole days since he'd put anything edible in his mouth. 

Neil must have realized it to, because around three pm he'd sat Kevin up against the wall and pushed a yogurt into his hands. 

"I have an idea," He said and Kevin just stared at him blankly. 

The yogurt was cold, but so was Kevin. It made his fingers feel numb. 

"How about we try something, yeah?" Neil whispered. The room was dark except for the little bit of light flooding through the thin curtains. Kevin kept staring at him, waiting. 

Neil's eyes were sad. His eyes were sad and Kevin just pretended like they weren't. 

"I'm going to take a bite and then you're going to take a bite," Neil handed him a spoon, "and we'll take turns until the yogurt's gone, yeah?" 

Kevin stared at him. 

"Look," Neil smiled, "Andrew even got your favorite flavor! It'll be so easy, Kev, we'll even count between bites if we need to." 

It took Kevin three whole minutes to grasp the concept of what Neil was suggesting and another minute and a half to agree. 

Neil smiled again but it didn't reach his eyes. 

He peeled the lid off of Kevin's yogurt and the off his own, sticking a spoon into Kevin's hands. Kevin just stared at it like it was something from another universe. It was just a spoon. A simple utensil in every household every where. 

It was just a spoon. 

Kevin turned his eyes to Neil and watched as Neil stirred his yogurt around nervously. 

"I'll go first," Neil said, voice chipper but his body language giving himself away. Kevin supposed he could try, just for this little bit. He could try if it meant that Neil's smile would become real for even half a second. 

Neil picked up his spoon and put in his mouth, pretending for the life of him that it was good. 

Kevin laughed, "You don't even like peach yogurt." 

"I know," Neil stared at the yogurt cup in his hand dejectedly before he perked up and gestured to Kevin's spoon, "it's your turn." 

Kevin told himself he'd try, and fuck that's what he was going to do. 

He stuck his spoon in the yogurt and stirred for a while, taking his time and reading himself for the dizzy feeling that came with the thought of eating. 

"Do you want me to count?" Neil said softly, watching Kevin's hands as he slowly stirred the yogurt round and round. 

"No," Kevin whispered back before he took a deep breath and brought the yogurt to his lips. His body's reaction was instant but he powered through it. Neil hadn't smiled in so long. He wanted to see Neil smile. 

His face must have gave him away because Neil let out a quiet, sad breath that tore at Kevin's heart. 

Fuck, it hurt. It hurt. 

Kevin swallowed and closed his eyes, trying his hardest to keep from puking that one bite up right into Neil's lap. 

It took him a minute or two before he opened his eyes and looked up at Neil's blank face, "Your turn." 

Neil took a bite. 

It took another five minutes before Kevin could take his. 

They went on like that until a whole hour had passed and both of them had finished the yogurt. Kevin's stomach was twisting and disagreeing but he was determined to keep it down, determined to do at least on thing right. 

He rolled over in the bed after Neil had taken the empty yogurt cup from him and closed his eyes against the wall, trying for all he was worth to keep the stuff down. God, he wanted to keep in his stomach so badly. He clapped a hand to his mouth as that disgusting hot feeling crept up the back of his neck. 

He just had to keep telling himself that he could keep it in there, that it belonged there, that he needed it to be healthy and strong enough to play Exy for the Foxes once school started. 

It took him a while, but he finally found something in himself that told him it would be okay. He would be okay. 

His stomach stopped rejecting the yogurt and that hot feeling in his throat dissipated. He turned to face Neil. 

At some point, Neil had gotten up to dispose of the yogurt cups and the spoons. Kevin didn't think he could look at the empty containers anyways. It would just remind him of the taste of peaches in his mouth and how much it had grossed him out. 

Neil laid down on the bed beside him, on top of the covers Kevin had buried himself under. His hand came up to lightly trace the features of Kevin's face, fingers delicately going down the slope of his nose and over the top of each of his brows. It was comforting. 

They stayed like that for a while, just staring at one another. Kevin could see that Neil was deep in thought so Kevin let him be, pleased to just let Neil touch him forever. 

"You want to try to shower?" Neil finally whispered into the space between them. Kevin just nodded in response. 

He'd have to be careful, if he moved too fast getting up then he'd have no other choice but to puke it up. He wouldn't be able to stop it. 

"By yourself?" 

Kevin blanched. Was Neil sick of helping Kevin bathe? Was he sick of having to care for Kevin like he was toddler? Was-

"I can help," Neil said, as if he could tell the panic those two words had made Kevin spiral into, "I just wanted to ask." 

Kevin thought about the way that Neil would help him into the tub and turn the water to just the right temperature. He thought about the way that Neil would clinically step in to help when Kevin go too tired to do it himself. 

He was being selfish today, it seemed. 

"Can you?" Kevin swallowed, "I don't- I don't think I'll be able to do anything once I get in there. It's getting harder to move." 

Sadness passed over Neil's face for a second before Neil buried it and moved his hand to rest on Kevin cheek, thumb under Kevin's eye, "Of course." 

Kevin had trouble standing it seemed, but that was okay because Neil was there to help him. 

The bath was quick and Kevin tried not to close his eyes at the feeling of Neil's hands running shampoo through his hair, but he couldn't help himself. 

They ventured downstairs after, Kevin having to stop every so often to blink black spots out of his eyes. Neil stayed in front of him on the steps the whole time, face clear of any worry but eyes full of it. Kevin didn't miss the way Neil's hands would hover around him each time he stopped, like Neil was ready to catch him if he went tumbling. 

Andrew greeted them with a blank look as they walked through the kitchen and into the living room. The sliding door that led out to the back yard was propped open to let the warm summer breeze flow through the stuffy house. 

Once Kevin was close enough, Andrew grabbed his wrist and yanked him down onto the couch with him. He positioned Kevin just so between his legs, back to Andrew's front and head on Andrew's chest. His chin pressed to the side of Kevin's head. 

Kevin didn't say anything about it as Neil positioned himself on the other end of the couch, both Andrew and Kevin's legs tossed over his lap. Both of his hands came down to rest of each of their legs. Kevin tried to stop his smile. 

The minutes of quiet passed as they watched whatever nature documentary Andrew had on. Something about Koalas. 

Neil tapped his leg suddenly and Kevin shifted his gaze from the TV to the red head slowly, half asleep. 

"Hm," Kevin hummed in question. 

Neil gave him a pointed look and raised his eyebrow. 

Kevin sighed. 

"I ate a yogurt cup today." He said aloud, voice rough.

Andrew fingers paused momentarily on Kevin's arm where he'd been trailing them up and down for the past twenty minutes. 

"Did you?" Andrew finally answer, resumed his fingers path on Kevin's arm. 

"And he kept it down," Neil added, a smile on his face as he swiped his thumb over Kevin's ankle bone. 

Andrew made a sound of acknowledgement, wrapping his arm sans arm band around Kevin's shoulders and pressing the smallest of kisses to Kevin's hair, "Proud of you." 

Kevin's body flooded with a warmth he hadn't felt in weeks. He let his body sink further into Andrew's and tilted his forehead to rest against the side of Andrew's neck. 

Andrew was proud of him. Him. Of all people. 

Proud. 

Kevin's brain felt alive as his neurons started to fire and his body relaxed entirely. 

He felt like he was on the beach again, surrounded by the people loved, with the waves lapping at his bare feet. It was freeing almost. Freeing. 

By the time dinner rolled around, Kevin forced himself to take a couple of bits of an apple. He'd almost managed a full granola bar, something he hadn't been able to do since they left the vacation house. 

Andrew and Neil stayed with him the whole time it took him to finish, their meals already gone by the time Kevin even managed to open the granola bar. That helped it seemed, to have people stay with him and watch him. They even stayed and watched has he fought with his body to keep it down, as he clapped his hand over his mouth again and swallowed against the bile rising in the back of his throat. 

They stayed until Kevin was certain his body had gave up on trying to dispel the food. 

They stayed on the couch for a little while longer, watching a history documentary this time that Kevin made comments about more and more as the night when on. 

When it was time for bed, Neil helped him up the stairs although there weren't as many stops now that he had some food in him. 

Neil got him into the bedroom and under the covers easily, Kevin going slowly and happily. He felt good for the first time in weeks, weeks. He felt safe and warm and happy enough to sleep without nightmares. 

"Andrew and I will be up in a moment," Neil muttered as he tucked Kevin in, "just going to go for a cigarette and then it's bedtime." 

Kevin frowned, "Both of you need to quit." 

Neil huffed a small laugh, "Not today. Maybe sometime in the future, but not today." 

Kevin rolled his eyes underneath his eyelids and turned to face the wall, making sure he left enough space for Andrew to slip into once they finally came upstairs. 

Kevin was half asleep by the time Neil changed into a pair of sweatpants and a shirt. Neil leaned over to press a lightning quick kiss to Kevin's forehead, probably thinking Kevin was already sleeping. 

Kevin hid his small smile in the pillows as Neil flicked the light off and closed the door behind him. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im putting this here so i can hold myself to it but yeah im going to eventually go back and edit this story. i had to revisit chapter eight for a part of this chapter and am lowkey fucking embarrassed lmfao sorry guys i did not know my clumsy 3 am writing was that bad whoops
> 
> anyways andrew's pov!!!! he's always been my favorite character to write (besides my boy kev lol)
> 
> also, this is not really read through, so if there are any mistakes it will be corrected later when i find the correct time to go through the whole thing and fix the typos hehe

Andrew was worried. 

Well, that was an understatement, really. 

Andrew was fucking scared. 

Kevin was dying. He was dying right before their fucking eyes and Andrew felt powerless to do anything. Kevin had thrived when they'd been at the beach. He'd been eating regularly, talking to people, smiling. 

Now, he just laid in bed all day and threw up nothing but bile. He slept all the time, but with sleep brought the nightmares which brought anxiety. It was like a cycle that never stopped. 

Andrew felt like he did when he was sixteen and watching his filthy mother shove pills down his brothers throat. He felt helpless, like a child. A child. 

He spent his days wandering around after Kevin every time he decided to leave the bedroom, hovering. He told himself he stayed close in case Kevin fell, in case he passed out and lost his footing, in case something horrible happened. He told himself that it was because of the bet, that it wasn't because he cared for Kevin like he cared for Neil. 

Andrew had been lying to himself for years, what was one more? 

Kevin fell exactly a week and a half after they got back to the Columbia house. Andrew had felt like his lungs had been sucked out of his mouth the moment he watched it happen, immediately rushing to Kevin's side and yanking him back up. He'd moved his hands over Kevin's arms and his knees, checking to see if Kevin had done any real harm. 

He hadn't, of course, because it was just a little fall but fuck had it scared the Andrew. 

He'd been shaking after he'd gotten Kevin into the bed. It took four cigarettes before they stopped and another two before he allowed himself to go back inside to find Neil. 

Andrew was losing his grip, slowly. Every night, as he locked the house up and Neil got Kevin ready for bed, Andrew held his keys tight enough in his hands until they left angry red indents. He held them tight enough to feel the pain, like it was a punishment. He stood there every night and told himself that taking Kevin to the hospital would be bad, that it would do nothing but make Kevin more upset. He told himself that Kevin had to stay here, because they would take care of him here, at home. 

He was sick and he needed to be home, not in some white padded room with no one there to hold him or comfort him. 

Every night, he'd hold his keys tight enough to hurt and every night, he'd put them back on the table beside the door. 

And then he'd go upstairs, to both of them in his bed and under his covers. And he'd kiss Neil and slip in between the wall and Kevin. He'd push his hand over Kevin's ribs and let himself feel exactly how bad it was getting, how awful of a person he was for doing nothing but letting it go on for so long. 

He'd debate more as he felt Kevin's breathing even out underneath his fingertips until finally, sleep took him. 

And then he'd wake up every morning to Neil pulling his running shorts on and waving a silent goodbye to him on the bed as he quietly slipping out of the bedroom. 

It was so domestic that it ached sometimes. It felt so normal, so easy to have them both in his bed, to have them both underneath his hands. It felt wrong, it felt intimate. It ached so bad that it physically hurt his chest sometimes. 

On a day during the third week, he'd found some koala documentary to play in the background as he stared aimlessly about the room. Someone had left the sliding door open and he could hear birds tittering away outside as a soft summer breeze weaved its way through the stuffy living room. He supposed it made a lovely backdrop to his self-loathing thoughts. 

Neil, and to Andrew's surprise, Kevin, came down the stairs sometime after noon. Andrew tried to keep his emotions to himself, tried to act like it was perfectly normal for Kevin to be out of the bedroom. 

But Kevin just looked so sick. So small and fragile and grey. Nothing like he had been all those years ago when Andrew had first laid eyes on him bleeding and broken in a bus seat. 

Andrew couldn't help himself as he grabbed Kevin's wrist and pulled him down to lay between Andrew's legs. He had to let go though, once Kevin was settled, because the feel of Kevin's wrist bones underneath his fingers almost sent Andrew spiraling to somewhere he hadn't been in years. 

He let one arm curve around Kevin's abdomen, to keep him there. He allowed his other arm to trail his fingers along Kevin's arm, lightly. Soothing and soft, in the way Neil always liked.

Neil took a seat at the end of the couch, which was fine with Andrew. Just that morning he'd managed to corner Neil in the kitchen and bend him over the counter. Neil moved so both Andrew and Kevin's feet were in his lap. Andrew hid his smile in Kevin's hair when he felt Neil's hand curl around his ankle. 

It took some time before Neil sent a pointed look at Andrew and Kevin gave a great sigh before he muttered, "I ate a yogurt cup today." 

Andrew's hand paused on its path going up and down Kevin's arm. 

Neil had gotten him to eat. Neil had gotten him to eat a fucking yogurt cup. 

Something burned hot and bright in Andrew's chest. 

"Did you?" He asked, keeping his voice blank. 

"And he kept it down," Neil's smiled unfurled on his face and it only made that feeling growing in Andrew's chest burn brighter. God, he loved him. 

Andrew couldn't help himself, he couldn't. He felt like he needed to do something to alleviate the feeling in his chest before he completely lost his mind. 

He felt like kissing them both. He felt like snatching Neil by the collar and and pulling him in for a crushing kiss that was all teeth and tongue and fire until there was nothing left of either of them. He felt like grabbing Kevin's chin in his hand and turning his face just so and sticking his tongue so far in his mouth that he was practically licking Kevin's fucking molars. 

Instead, he settled for a small, quick kiss to Kevin's hair and a heated look sent Neil's way. 

"Proud of you," He whispered in Kevin's ear, moving his arm up to wrap tightly around Kevin's chest. 

After dinner, after he had to watch Kevin choke down each bite like it physically pained him to even bring the food to his mouth, he found himself outside. 

The moon was full behind the cigarette smoke that floated in front of his eyes. He took another inhale and felt it fill his lungs slowly until there was nothing but smoke inside. He made himself hold it in until he couldn't and then he let it out slowly before he repeated the whole process again and again. 

The first cigarette was gone by the time Neil appeared beside him. 

"I think today was a success," Neil muttered to him. He kept his eyes on the moon as Neil picked a cigarette out of their shared pack and lit it with their shared pink lighter. It had a flamingo on it. Andrew set a reminder in his brain to never let Neil purchase the lighters again. 

Neil picked another one out of the pack, lighting it on the end of his own before handing it to Andrew. 

The way Neil held cigarettes was something Andrew couldn't not look at, so he tore his gaze away from the moon as he plucked the cigarette from his lover's grasp. 

You couldn't tell if you weren't really looking at Neil, but sometimes, Andrew could see Nathaniel in his outline. They way Neil held himself, his posture, the way Neil held a fucking cigarette so elegantly. Aristocratically. 

Nathaniel had been the son of a wealthy mobster dickhead. He'd sat at dinner tables and learned wealthy person etiquette at the hands of old women in long dresses. Like it was the fucking 1940s and Neil was a Prince. 

In a sense, Nathaniel had been a price while Nathan and Mary and been the King and Queen. 

But if Andrew looked even harder, he could see the outlines of Chris and Stefan and who ever the fuck else Mary had forced him to pretend to be. 

Andrew could see the way his eyes floated around the backyard, the way his shoulders tensed at the slightest noise from the dark. It was fascinating. It was fucking captivating that so many versions of one person could boil down to the most honest and puzzling man Andrew had ever met. 

"I love you," The words left Andrew's mouth without a second fucking thought in his brain. He'd said it before, of course, just once, but the words still tasted weird on his tongue. 

They floated in the air between them while Neil stared at the cherry of his cigarette, the orange glow lighting up his face as he took a puff. 

The slow smile that spread across Neil's face did something to Andrew's heart. 

"I love you, too," Neil said back. 

It was even weirder to hear those words being said back to him, but Andrew told himself that it was okay. He deserved this love, fuck, he deserved it. 

He was leaning into Neil's space without a second thought, sealing their lips in a kiss that liquified Andrew's insides. 

Once they pulled back, Andrew took to looking at the moon and Neil, switching between them every so often as he slowly smoked his cigarette. 

"So you think today was a success?" Andrew finally huffed, wanting to fill the silence. 

"I do," Neil smiled proudly as he ashed the cigarette between his feet, "I looked up some shit on Google and got him to eat a yogurt cup with me." 

Andrew nodded and ashed his own cigarette before whispering, "Was it as bad as it was at dinner?" 

It had physically pained Andrew to sit there and watch Kevin struggle like that, to watch and do nothing. 

"Oh," Neil scoffed quietly, eyes watery in the moonlight, "Andrew, it was awful." 

Andrew let that roll around in the air between them before he stood up and offered his hand to pull Neil up. 

Once Neil was up, Andrew pressed another kiss to his lips that was all teeth and tongue and fire that his gaze had promised earlier. 

"Thank you," He breathed into the space between their lips once he'd pulled back, "thank you." 

"I know," Neil whispered back, following after Andrew as he led them inside. 

Once in the bedroom, Andrew pressed another quick kiss to Neil's lips before he slipped into his rightful place between the wall and Kevin. 

"Ugh," Kevin grumbled when the feel of them both rolling into bed with him woke him up, "you both smell like cigarette smoke." 

"Shut up," Neil muttered on the other side of Kevin as he snuggled into Kevin's back and threw an arm around him so he could wrap his fingers in Andrew's sleep shirt, "I'm tired." 

Andrew stifled his snort as he watched Kevin roll his eyes. 

The days after slipped through Andrew's fingers slow as honey. They were dripping in sunlight and coated in warmth. Andrew would never admit it, but Summer had always been his favorite season. Being able to sit outside in the sun and watch Kevin finally, finally, take a step out into the backyard with a racket in his hand felt like the summer before. 

Before Riko's death, before Kevin's attempted suicide. 

It was disorienting for a moment as he watched Kevin use whatever energy he'd been gaining in the past few days. He'd been eating more, though it was still a challenge. There'd been a few steps backwards, of course, but for the most part Kevin was improving. 

Today, he'd watch Kevin take a bite of food without cringing in pain. 

It was a sight. 

Once Kevin seemed to realize that his body wasn't trying to get rid of the mac and cheese, he took another bite. And another. And another. Until the whole little serving Neil had put into the bowl for him was gone. 

It was the first time Kevin had finished his food in a over a month.

Andrew almost kissed him. 

Almost. 

In the days that followed, Kevin kept eating. More and more everyday until he was able to spend an hour throwing balls into the soccer net Nicky had set up one summer. 

Andrew was sprawled out in the grass, sunglass on, pretending to nap. He wasn't wearing all black today because he really didn't feel like dying of heat stroke. Instead he was in one of Kevin's old PSU shirts and his workout shorts, comfortable as fuck. The grass wasn't hard and crunchy either and he was half asleep laying there, sun warm and dazed. 

Neil had snatched his own racket from the hall closet a little while ago so he too could practice with Kevin. 

"I miss the court," Kevin whined a little bit after he'd plopped in the grass by Andrew's head. 

Behind Andrew's sunglasses, he had free reign of Kevin's body. He could look everywhere and nowhere all at once and not a single person would be able to tell where he was looking. He focused on how seat was beginning to bead on Kevin's forehead, on how he took a water bottle from Neil and was huffing air before he drank from the bottle. How the water slipped down his chin until he gave up and dumped the entire thing on his head. 

Andrew sat up quickly to avoid getting splashed with the water, and in revenge of Kevin nearly soaking him too, he snatched Neil's water bottle from Neil's hands and poured the freezing water into Kevin's lap. 

"Fuck," Kevin hissed, jerking away as he rolled and little bits of grass stuck to his wet skin, "that's cold." 

"If I wanted to go swimming, I would have broke into the pool at Palmetto," Andrew muttered, handing the half empty bottle to his boyfriend. 

"I didn't even get you wet, 'Drew," Kevin huffed at him, before rolling his eyes as Andrew crawled over to an entirely different patch of sunfaded grass and laid on his back. 

"It doesn't matter," Andrew replied, tucking his hands behind his head and lazily letting his eyes close as he bathed in the sunlight, "What matters is that you almost did." 

"What? Are you gonna fuckin' melt or something if you get wet?" 

Andrew heard the shuffle of bodies, but kept his eyes closed. He knew what was coming and it would be all the more fun of torturing Kevin for it in the upcoming days. 

"Nope," Andrew popped his P, "but I will kick your ass, Kevin Day, so put the water bottle down before you start something that I'll have to finish." 

For added dramatic effect, Andrew pinched his sunglass between his pointer finger and thumb as he pulled them a little down his nose and opened one eye to glare hotly at Kevin. 

Andrew's prediction appeared to be correct, as Kevin quickly dropped four different water bottle from his large hands as if Andrew hadn't already caught sight of them. 

"Okay," Neil whistled as he watched the water leak out of the bottles by his shoes, "that wasn't freaky at all." 

Andrew smirked in triumph and pushed his sunglasses up his nose and turned back to the sun. 

"Maybe that's how he so freakishly good in the goal," Kevin muttered to Neil, "he's actually a psychic and can tell where the ball is going to come from before the strikers even taken the shot." 

Andrew scoffed at that, "Just because I know your playing style like the back of my hand doesn't mean I have a sixth sense, Kevin. Haley Joel Osment already took that role." 

"Haley Joel Osment?" Neil whispered to himself and Andrew inwardly winced. While the team had made it their weekend missions to introduced Neil to as much pop culture things as possible, Neil had declared that no 'scary movies' would be watched. Figuring that the sight of people hanging from the ceiling and dead people half decayed talking to a small boy was 'scary', Renee had taken the film off the list Allison and Dan had complied. 

"It's from a movie, Neil," Kevin muttered to him before turning back to Andrew, "you know, I think that's the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me, and I used to have a crush on someone from Paris." 

"Paris?" Neil questioned as he plopped himself into the grass beside Andrew and Kevin, "you're not talking about Jean are you?" 

Oh, dear Lord, no fucking way. Moreau? Really? 

Andrew popped his eyes open in just enough time to see Kevin's cheeks tint even more red, and it wasn't from the heat outside. 

"You're joking," Andrew all but sputtered out as he sat up quickly in the grass. 

"I was thirteen, okay!" Kevin defended, "the only choices I had back then where Jean or Riko and Jean- he was nicer to me than Riko and he had really pretty hands, okay, that's it. That's all your getting." 

Neil rested a palm on Kevin's outstretched knee, "It's okay, Kev, I get it." 

Andrew paused, "You get it?" 

Now it was Neil's turn for his cheeks to tint red, "I mean, yeah? I never had a crush on the man, but he does have a rather nice physique." 

This so wasn't Andrew's life right now. 

"Right!" Kevin agreed, slapping a hand onto Neil's wrist in agreement, "and the way he plays? He's got all that muscle but he moves it around like he's a fucking panther or something!" 

Neil enthusiastically nodded, "Exactly! It's attractive, in that sense." 

Andrew was going to throttle his boyfriend. His boyfriend and their platonic husband. 

"Jeremy is a very lucky man," Kevin commented and Neil nodded in agreement, "he was my first kiss." 

Neil, who had been rolling an Exy ball between his hands, paused, "Really? When I was there, it didn't seem like- like a thing he would be into. He was always so focused on practice and keeping me alive. I never saw him interact with anyone else but Riko and I." 

"Well," Kevin muttered, "back then, we were still kids. Yeah, we practiced, but it was more on our own time than it had been with the actual Ravens. Jean was always more focused on us than practice back then, but I guess after I left there wasn't much left for him there to hold on to." 

It was quiet for a minute before Neil muttered, "My first kiss was with a girl named Melissa somewhere in Canada." 

"Oh?" Kevin asked. 

"It was more for the experience than it was for kissing, to be honest. My mother ripped some of my hair out after when she caught us, but it was okay. I got over it after that and never kissed anyone again, well," Neil laughed a little, "until I came here, that is." 

Kevin nudged Andrew's leg with his foot, "What about you? Who was your first kiss?" 

Andrew spread out on the grass as he thought, "Depends on what you count. Do you want me to be honest or do you want me to tell you about the first kiss that I initiated on my own? Do you want me to be honest?" 

If he was honest, then he'd tell them that he had been five years old the first time someone kissed him, the first time someone shoved their tongue down his throat. 

It was quiet again. 

"What do you count?" Kevin breathed after a minute. 

"My first kiss was with the cute boy in cellblock B when I was in juvie." Andrew finally decided on. 

"And how cute was he?" Neil laughed, continuing to roll the Exy ball around. 

"Oh, the cutest," Andrew gushed, fakely, trying to sound like how Allison would when she would talk about her men between her and Seth's off weeks, "Curly brown hair and a busted lip and black eye from a fight, a complete idiot," Andrew pulled his sunglasses down to eye Neil's smile, "you know, exactly my type." 

In reality, Andrew had been beating the shit out of him and the boy smiled with blood in his teeth and then suddenly they were kissing. 

Which was fine, except the boy avoided him like the plague after. Maybe because he got his ass handed to him, or because the kissing had grew heated way too fast and they were both sixteen and hormonal or something. 

It had been Andrew's first sexual encounter with which he had actually wanted to take part in. 

After that, Andrew had pulled as much books he could find about sexuality in the Juvie's library, even befriended the librarian so she would order him more books. 

It was when he finally figured out that he was gay and that no, no, his past did not poison him. 

Bee had helped him reiterate that fact once he started seeing her. 

"Stop flirting without me," Kevin told them, snatching the ball from Neil's grip and getting up to his feet, "Come on, Neil, let's get some more practice in before Andrew decides that the sun is too hot or something and forces us inside." 

Andrew flicked his fingers at them dismissively as they got up with their rackets, falling back into the grass to continue his sunbathing with his eyes closed, Neil and Kevin's laughter floating through the air. 

If Andrew could bottle this moment, he would. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short, yet again, because this is a #filler 
> 
> im just tryna time jump and wait until the school year starts again without stuffing so much into a chapter that it gets confusing 
> 
> n e ways, thank u for reading as always luv u guys


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